


Falling Skies

by LockedOwle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Angst, BAMF Bruce Banner, Domestic Avengers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Master of Death!Harry, Mechanic!Harry, Mystery Villain, Protective Tony Stark, Sequel to Finding Home, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LockedOwle/pseuds/LockedOwle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark lords and alien invasions are the least of Harry's worries. The world won't end if he has anything to say about it. Approved sequel to cywsaphyre's Finding Home. No Slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ticking Down

Chapter 1 – Ticking Down

There was something almost soothing about being on the edge of an apocalypse, though Harry knew that anyone would think he was crazy if he expressed the thought out loud. The sense of urgency brought on by impending doom was something that he had lived with for most of his life. He had left when it had grown to be too much, but a part of him, the ‘hero’ part he assumed, had missed it. 

So if he was caught sprawled in one of the lounge chairs on Tony’s balcony staring out at the skyline with a ruminating smile on his face, that was the reason why. 

And honestly, he didn’t think that it was anyone’s business but his.

Tony disagreed, which was saying it mildly. He was quick to distract Harry whenever he noticed that he’d been drawn into his thoughts for too long. Tony, who had all the subtlety of a tutu wearing rhino painted cherry red and gold, had been wary of leaving him on his own, which hadn’t been much of an issue until recently. The past few days had been full of last minute alterations but now they were playing the waiting game. Harry had prepared his counter wards as best he could and the transmitter was ready to go. After endless hours in each other’s company, Harry had begun to chafe and so he occasionally pulled away for some alone time.

“Oh there you are!” 

Which Tony consistently interrupted. 

Harry covered his eyes for a moment and took the time to carefully swallow his annoyance. He understood, really he did. If Tony had died for a week and been magically brought back to life, he would stick a little close too. So there was no reason to kill Tony, no reason at all. 

The billionaire dropped down into the chair next to his, and wordlessly handed Harry a beer. 

“Was the movie that boring?” Harry asked, immediately picking at the label. 

“Eh. I was more interested in where you’d run off to,” Tony said, tone pointedly casual. 

“Tony…” 

“Plus Bruce fell asleep and started to snore. No one likes to be around for that.” 

Harry sighed and turned his attention back onto the skyline. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s up or do I have to start guessing? Because I totally will.” 

“Please god no,” Harry intoned. Then louder he said, “Do you ever think about dying?”

“I try not to, but yeah. I think everyone does,” Tony answered easily. “Why? Is that what’s bothering you?” 

Harry frowned. A part of him just wanted to tell Tony. Not only would the secret finally be off his chest, but then Tony could stop worrying. The other man was going to find out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Tentatively, Harry drew a breath, only to stop when he felt something wet and slightly oily land on the back of his hand. He looked down, eyes narrowed at the viscous black liquid that was beginning to fall from the sky. An instant later his skin began to burn, like he’d splashed hot grease on himself. 

“The hell –!” Tony bleated. 

Harry tugged the other man to his feet and practically tossed him in the direction of the balcony doors. He followed close behind, vacating the balcony right before the stuff really started coming down. Both of them stood there in stunned silence before Steve’s voice startled them into movement. 

“Guys!” he barked from the media room. “Come look at this.” 

The television had been switched over from the movie that had been playing to the local news. 

“…reports of a black rain that burns when it touches skin but it doesn’t appear to be doing any structural damage. We advise that you seek shelter inside until otherwise advised.” 

They watched with varying degrees of horrified bewilderment as the television showed footage of the black rain falling over the city, and the span of damage it could do to human skin. Harry was so enthralled that he was unprepared for Tony to grab at his hand. 

“Bruce,” the billionaire called intently.

It was enough for everyone to look over and their faces darkened when faced with the creeping burn marks on the back of Harry’s hand and arm. 

Bruce jumped to his feet, grabbing Harry’s other arm and towing him into the kitchen. 

“Jarvis,” Tony demanded. 

“Analysis of the substance reveals that it is a phosphazene class super base. I would recommend --.” 

“Vinegar!” Bruce snapped, but Tony was already tearing the cupboards apart. 

Bruce and Clint guided Harry into one of the tall bar chairs while Steve and Natasha hovered and tried not to get in the way. Harry sighed and let them fuss, complicatedly resting his arm on the countertop. Tony offered Bruce the bottle of vinegar and Bruce carefully went about splashing it on the worse of the burn. 

“The pain should be easing up,” Bruce said, glancing into Harry’s face before refocusing on his arm. 

“I’ve had worse,” Harry said. “But yeah. It feels better.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, and continued to splash vinegar over the worst of the burn until the bottle was depleted. Then he carefully lifted Harry’s arm by the wrist, examining the burn with grim fascination. 

“Bandages,” he demanded to the group. 

Natasha peeled off to rifle through their well stocked first aid kit. She passed a roll over and Bruce began to wrap them around Harry’s wrist, forearm, and fingers. 

“What do you think that stuff is?” Clint asked, motioning at one of the windows. 

“Preemptive strike,” Harry said with a shrug.

Bruce finally looked up from Harry’s hand, calling it good enough. “How’s the pain?” he asked. “And be honest.” 

Harry flexed his fingers, wrinkling his nose as sharp prickles traveled up and down his arm. Bruce was watching him carefully, and so easily caught the subtle show of discomfort. He didn’t even need to ask; Natasha tossed over an orange prescription bottle. Harry eyed it distastefully. 

“No.” 

“You’re in pain,” Bruce said patiently as he shook out two white pills. “It’s codeine. Perfectly harmless.” 

Steve had already filled a glass and offered it up with an unrelenting look on his face. Harry looked around and saw that he wouldn’t get help from anyone, even Tony. He rolled his eyes, but took the stupid pills. 

The silence was interrupted by Thor, who entered the kitchen with a bemused look on his face. 

“Are we not picking another movie to watch?” He examined Harry’s wounded arm with concern. “What has happened?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Harry said before anyone else could. “Let’s go watch the movie.” 

Tony caught on, and started herding everyone out of the kitchen, even Bruce. He lingered, raising his eyebrows at Harry who wanted nothing more than to disappear into his room for a while. The expression on Tony’s face said that that was unlikely to happen, and if Harry had learned anything over the years, he’d learned that he had to pick his battles. 

*

Harry was wily, but Tony was a freaking genius. Not to say that Harry was incapable of holding his own; he was a bit of a genius too. Unfortunately for Harry, Tony’s particular brand of genius included the ability to annoy the piss out of just about anyone. He protested, but Tony was pretty certain that Harry found him amusing most of the time. 

It was his saving grace, because if Harry really wanted to, he could have blasted Tony out of all existence. There was so much punch in his tiny and assuming package, but Tony knew all about appearances - all about masks and how to wear them. Only idiots relied on book covers alone. 

And hello? Tony equals genius.

So Tony wasn’t fooled. He knew that Harry could take care of himself most of the time. He was probably better at looking after himself than Tony was, though he would never admit that out loud (double true if Pepper was lurking around.) Sometime though, more and more frequently before this whole world ending business began, Tony had begun to see that cover shift. He’d seen glimpses of a man who had seemed intrinsically lonely. He’d recognized that loneliness. As fruity as it sounded, it had called to him. 

But all altruistic notions aside, Harry had been interesting, and Tony was nothing if not curious. 

But that loneliness had persisted. Harry was good at hiding it, but remember, Tony equals genius. 

“Should we move him to his room?” Steve asked quietly. 

Tony carefully shook his head, weary of shifting too much and dislodging Harry’s head. The team had fallen asleep in front of the TV, laid out in various positions in the family room. Clint stretched out over the back of the sectional was particularly hilarious, with Bruce and Thor leaning against each other coming in as a close second. At one point Harry had rested his head on Tony’s shoulder and fallen asleep that way, bandaged arm wrapped around his middle, burnt fingers brushing involuntarily against Tony’s side. 

“Move him and he’ll wake up,” Tony explained quietly. 

Steve was eyeing the both of them, the question clear in his gaze. Tony huffed slightly and ignored it. The good Cap eyed him for one moment more before he shrugged and got to his feet. 

“Well I’m going to bed,” he said. 

As soon as he’d disappeared down one of the hallways, Clint heaved a long sigh from on the back of the sectional. 

“So are you guys together or what?” 

“I knew you couldn’t actually be asleep,” Tony hissed. “And keep it down.” 

“You totally are.” 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we’re not together.” 

“But you’d like to be?” 

Tony rolled his eyes and slumped down slightly, Harry’s head settling higher on his shoulder and their bodies resting more comfortably against each other. 

“You guys are totally married.” 

Tony drew in a breath, no doubt to say something cutting, but a short distressed sound from Harry cut him off. 

“He okay?”

Tony didn’t answer right away. He examined what he could see of Harry’s expression. His brows had pulled down, and his fingers had tightened their grip on Tony’s shirt. 

“He’s fine,” Tony said confidently, hoping that he wasn’t telling a lie. 

*

“It must be important if you’re visiting me in my sleep.” 

Death’s face was pulled down into a severe expression. “Thanos comes,” it said without fanfare. 

“What?” 

Death glowered and did not repeat itself. 

“Now?”

“Within hours he comes to rend, rip and offer.” 

“I thought there was more time.” 

“Time has fled. The moment has come.” 

Harry looked up at the tall mass that he had never been able to properly describe even to himself. He now knew it to be female, at least it had the ability to appear that way. He glanced around the dreamscape, looking for a way out. 

“It that all?” 

Death actually hesitated, expression softening. “I … regret…” 

Harry blinked in shock, giving the entity his full attention. “Regret? You regret letting that monster kill millions of beings just to get into your skirts?” 

Whatever warmth had entered Death’s gaze rapidly fled. Harry crossed his arms, utterly un-intimidated. 

“You are a cruel master.” 

“Yeah well no one ever said I was nice. Now let me wake --.” Harry nearly bit his astral tongue off as he felt a disturbance against his Occlumency shields, familiar and dreaded.

“Wake-me-up. Wake-me-up-right-now!” 

*

Harry woke up swinging, on his feet and moving before his eyes were even open. There were voices, but he only heard them distantly. There were hands but he brushed them off, fighting to get to a window. 

“He’s heading toward the balcony!” 

“Harry!”

He started, hand wrapped around the handle to the balcony doors. Tony was squeezed in-between him and the doors, arresting hands on his shoulders, saying his name over and over. He stopped when Harry frowned at him. 

“Awake?” 

“I’m fine,” Harry said faintly.

“Yeah sure.”

“It might’ve been the pills,” Bruce said quietly on Harry’s other side. He carefully wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and began leading him to the couch. 

“No,” Harry snapped groggily. “Something’s happening. The wards --.” 

Suddenly Steve face was filling his vision, Tony pushed aside as the team leader absorbed Harry’s words. 

“I thought we had more time.”

“They’ve started,” Harry said dully. “We have a day, two at most. Thanos is on his way. It’s all starting.

Bruce finally succeeded in guiding Harry away from the rest of the team and onto the couch. As the moments ticked by, Harry regained more and more of his facilities, and tried to get to his feet. Bruce’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“I’m fine,” he finally snapped. 

“You’re high on pain meds. I know what that looks like,” Tony said unhelpfully. 

“I have to --.” 

“You said we had a day?” Clint asked from over by the balcony. “I don’t think a few hours will hurt.” 

He glanced at Natasha for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“You must rest Harry, before you harm yourself,” Thor put in. 

They all looked to Steve, who was staring down at the top of Harry’s head with a heavy frown. He glanced over at Tony, who gave a little shake of his head. 

“A few hours couldn’t hurt,” he said grudgingly. 

Tony surged forward, sitting down next to Harry and ducking under one of his arms. “Let’s get you into bed,” he said and carefully stood, an arm wrapped around Harry’s waist. But stress had taken its toll, and Harry’s chin dipped down to rest against his chest, eyes closed. 

“You with us buddy?” Tony asked worriedly. 

Harry tried to say, ‘yes of course, get off me.’ Instead, he could only groan. 

Bruce ducked down and stared down into Harry’s face, reaching out with one steady hand to check the pulse in his neck, ignoring Harry’s abortive little twitch. 

“He’s okay,” he assured the group. “He’s been though a lot. It’s easy to forget that he died and came back a few weeks ago, and who knows how that affects the body. He’s been using his magic pretty heavily too.” 

“He should be put to his rest,” Thor said, making a point of speaking quietly. 

Tony nodded in agreement and began to gather up Harry’s plaint limbs, preparing to lift him. 

“Do you need help Stark?” Steve asked, and was already reaching out to take Harry’s weight. 

“Uh, no,” Tony said with a little smirk. “I’ve got it.” 

He scooped Harry up, seemingly with no issues at all. 

“Put me down,” Harry grumbled into Tony’s shirt but his eyes were still closed, and his efforts to free himself were negligible.

“Sure, sure,” Tony said quietly. “As soon as you’re in bed, I’ll put you right down.” 

He began to make his way down the hallway. Before the two of them were out of earshot, the others heard Tony mutter, “This is so blackmail material.” 

“That time you decided to experiment with bioluminescence…” Harry said groggily. “Naked dancing.” 

“Must you bring that up every time?” Tony squeaked and sounded profoundly embarrassed. 

If the conversation continued the others couldn’t hear it. Steve slumped slightly, running a hand over his face. 

“It’s not all that bad,” Clint said confidently. “He’ll be fine in the morning. He can work his mojo and everything will be fine.” 

“I didn’t realize how much depends on him until just now. I can understand Fury’s frustration,” Steve said. 

“Harry is strong and brave,” Thor said confidently. “He will not allow himself to fail us.” 

“That’s not all together good either,” Natasha said. “He’s a civilian. A very powerful civilian, but still a civilian.” 

“Are we talking about the same kid here?” Clint muttered. “He’s harder than most career soldiers. If he’s a civilian, I’ll shoot myself in the face.” 

“You know what I meant,” Natasha said with a little frown. “He’s not obligated to help.” 

“Neither is Stark,” Steve reminded them. “Neither is Thor, or Bruce.” 

“What exactly are you trying to say here?” Bruce asked Natasha without looking up from his own knuckles. “Are you saying that he’s not to be trusted because he doesn’t answer to S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“I’m just wondering what happens when things get too hard. What happens if Potter decides that he doesn’t what to deal with all this anymore?” 

“We will never had need to discover what will happen, because it will not happen,” Thor said in a tone that conveyed the end of the matter. 

Bruce nodded and got to his feet. “What he said.” 

Natasha glanced at Steve, the only person who’d turned thoughtful at her words. He caught her looking and gave a little shrug. 

* 

The next morning, Harry rolled out of bed a good few hours later than he usually did, which was still pretty early considering. He stumbled into the kitchen, and sat with his head on the counter. Natasha was already up, and working on making a pot of coffee. 

“Are you feeling better?” she asked as he placed a mug at his elbow. 

Harry reached out blindly and brought the coffee to his mouth. He looked up at her and offered a tired smile. 

“Thanks. Sorry about last night.” 

Natasha leaned back on the counter opposite, a hand wrapped around her own mug. “Fury contacted us. We were waiting for you to get up before we headed to HQ.” She pursed her lips, examining Harry’s face. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she finally said. “Except you should take better care of yourself.” 

“I take care of myself just fine,” Harry countered automatically. 

Natasha simply raised an eyebrow and took a pointed sip from her mug. Harry glowered at her. Bruce joined them next, looking disgustingly alert and proceeded to redress Harry’s arm before helping himself to some coffee. Soon after everyone arrived and caffeinated themselves Harry offered his uninjured arm for side along apparition. 

“It’s faster,” he explained. 

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Steve asked. 

The glare that Harry offered him was more than answer enough. The very manly squeak that the Captain let slip was insanely satisfying. 

*

In the end there was little to be said about the black rain, despite all of Fury’s posturing. The whole east coast had been affected, but the epicenter had been New York. Harry’s burns were minor compared to the reports that S.H.I.E.L.D was receiving. Thankfully the number of fatalities had been few. 

“What do you know about this Potter?” Fury asked, his tone indicating that he was expecting only one sort of response. 

“Nothing,” Harry said flatly and didn’t even feel bad about it. 

“Nothing?” Fury repeated. “There’s no magical way to --.” 

“I’m sure that there is,” Harry interrupted. “But there’s no reason for them to attack us. They want to stop Thanos and sure they’re willing to massacre millions of people to do it. But not for no reason.” Harry subsided, glancing up at the ceiling. “As horrible as that sounds.” 

“What if this is a precursor to the death wards?” 

“It’s not.” Harry said firmly. “This rain is all Thanos. They’ve started laying the foundations for the wards, but it’s not instantaneous.” Harry idly tapped his temple with one of his pointer fingers. “They tried to hide themselves but I felt them.” 

Fury was silent for a long moment, scowling at Harry was hard as he could. “When were you going to mention that the wards had started to go up.” 

“I just did.” 

Tony snorted loudly and looked utterly unrepentant when Fury’s ire turned onto him. 

“When did you first sense them?” 

“Last night.” 

“Why didn’t you report it then.” 

Bruce spoke before Harry could. “He was injured from the black rain. There was nothing he could have done anyway.” 

Fury’s scowl softened the tiniest bit, and he nodded. “Fine,” he said. “We’ve got work to do.” 

*

“I’m never doing that again,” George groaned under this breath. 

“It wasn’t that bad.” 

“Yes it was. I never knew babies could be so annoying and my ears feel funny.” 

Fred rolled his eyes, unseen behind George’s back. The plane ride had been long, but thankfully Fred had been able to sleep through must of it. George had been unable to get comfortable, had complained endlessly about the quality of the air, the cramped seating, the food, pretty much everything. If Fred was forced to ride in a plane again, he would certainly do so without his brother, that or drug him. 

“So now what?” he asked, bags in hand and standing beside a line of honking taxis. 

“We find Harry,” George said shortly and waved his hand at one of the taxis. “We’ll start in Manhattan. That’s where the worst of the damage was. Someone has to know something.” 

“So what? We just walk around asking questions?” 

George looked suspiciously shifty eyed, and Fred glared at him. 

“You’re joking.” 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

Fred drew in a sharp breath, intending to sprout off an idea that wasn’t completely idiotic. Unfortunately nothing came and he had to close his mouth without having said anything. George looked incredibly smug as he got into the taxi and if Fred’s elbow accidently jabbed into Georges’s ribs then it didn’t really bare mentioning. 

*  
“We need to get into Manhattan. I have business with the Gringotts branch here.” Bill passed over his papers, trying not to sound as frustrated as he was. 

It seemed that the red tape in America was just as bad as it was in Britain. The American version of the Ministry of Magic (called the American Wizarding League – creative) was far more intergraded than its British counterpart. They had computers for one. The headquarters had been built in wizard space, physically existing in New York, Chicago and LA all at the same time. Instead of down, the American’s had built up, each incarnation of the building appearing as a different skyscraper in each city. It was all very modern, but with all the goings on in America, superheros, super villains, mutants etc, Bill supposed that the administration had to be a little more on top of things. 

Unfortunately, bureaucracy was the same everywhere. Upon flooing in, Bill and Fleur had been passed from department from department, trying to get access to New York. This was the third person he’d presented his papers to. 

“I see Mr. Weasley. You have been told that soon the League will remove access to the New York office’s, correct?” 

“It should only take a few hours. The sooner I get in, the sooner I can complete my business, the sooner I can get home.” Bill pulled up a disarming smile, the one that usually got him what he wanted. 

The American witch looked over her glasses at him for a moment, before looking down at Bills papers. Bill began to nervously twist his fingers together. Fleur, beautiful loving amazing Fleur, reached out and placed a hand over his. 

“Very well, Mr. Weasley.” The witch tapped the papers with her wand and passed them back. “You have 12 hours to complete your business before you’ll lose access to headquarters. Routine maintenance on the portals I’m afraid. I would strongly suggest you finish by then, or you’ll be stuck waiting.” 

Bill nodded, handing everything to Fleur so she could tuck it away. He was a bit surprised at the reasoning she’d given for why he needed to be back. The story made sense of course, but he wondered why she didn’t admit that the city was soon to be sectioned off. Even if she didn’t know about the death wards, even telling him that not only would he lose access to League Headquarters, but he’d be unable to leave the city at all, would have been better than the story she’d just given. Fleur reached out and grasped his hand against, motivating Bill to get to his feet. 

He reached out and shook the woman’s hand. “Thank you Miss…” he glanced down at the plaque on her desk “Winters.” 

Bill turned to Fleur, and offered her a smile. She saw right through it of course. Together, they traversed their way out of League Headquarters. They stepped out onto the sidewalks of Manhattan, hand in hand. 

“Okay,” Fleur said softly. “Now what?” 

And wasn’t that the million galleon question.


	2. Coming Together

“I swear to God Tony, I’m going to hex you if you don’t leave off!” 

Clint and Natasha shared a look, but quickly went back to cleaning their weapons. Harry sounded pissed, and there was no reason to draw that ire onto themselves. 

“I’m just expressing my concern over the state of your --.” 

“You’ve been expressing your concern all day. Shut up about it.” 

There was a weighted pause, and Clint and Natasha actually held their breath.

“Here, let me get tha-.” 

Tony’s voice suddenly cut off, and a moment later there was a loud thud. It sounded as if something hard had hit the hardwood floor. Clint and Natasha eyed the doorway apprehensively, ready to get up and disappear if they had to. Harry appeared a few moments later, a box tucked under one arm. He looked as unflappable as he usually did. 

“Hey,” he greeted calmly, and pulled up a seat at the kitchen counter

Clint’s gaze bounced between the mechanic and the door. Natasha glowered at him, silently willing him to just leave it be. 

“Lover’s spat?” Clint asked casually.

Harry stopped digging around in his box, face twisted into a mien of confusion and annoyance. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Clint looked like he wanted to take the words back, but there was nothing for it now. He plowed ahead, and Natasha began to work more fervently on her guns. “They call them domestics in Britain right? Having a domestic?”

Harry was giving Clint his full attention now, and that sharp green gaze was profoundly unsettling. 

“Um…”

“No,” Harry snapped. “We are not having a domestic. You need to be involved to have a domestic.” 

“Is that it?” Clint asked, danger forgotten as he focused more on the juicy opportunity for mischief that had presented itself. “I knew it. Both secretly pinning for the other, no idea that your feelings are--.” 

“No,” Harry said again and the tone alone was enough to derail Clint’s babble train. The glare he threw in was just gravy. 

Clint cleared his throat and was suddenly very focused on his bow. The three of them worked in silence for a few very long minutes; Clint and Natasha resuming their previous activities while Harry began spelling the different components in his box. Clint’s knee began to bounce, and Natasha silently willed him to just leave it be. 

“So is it just a friends with benefits type –.” 

“Silencio.” 

Clint’s lips continued to move but no sound came out. He grabbed at his throat, eyes widening in alarm. Natasha just sighed at him. 

“I hate to say it Clint…” 

At once his hands were moving through the signs that they had created for missions. It was a little rough but it got the point across. 

Natasha shook her head in response to his silent request. “You’re on your own,” she said. 

Clint glowered at her, and then turned imploring eyes onto Harry, who made a point not to look at him. 

There was a startled yelp from the hallway, and a moment later Bruce appeared at the door. “What happened to Tony?”

Natasha and Clint pointed at Harry, who’d hopped down from the stool as soon as he’d heard Bruce’s voice. 

“Ready to go?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but what about Tony?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and stomped off down the hallway. 

“What did he do?” Natasha asked Bruce, who had inched closer to the mouth of the hallway to listen. 

“Not sure. Tony was just lying in the middle of the floor, not moving. I almost stepped on him.” 

“ …stop coddling me, I’ll end the spell,” Harry was saying. “Keep at it, and I’ll curse you silent like I did to Clint.” 

If Tony said anything in response, they didn’t hear it. “I swear Tony, I’m not in the mood. Finite.” 

“Okay how did you do that?” they heard Tony ask excitedly. “You didn’t say anything, don’t you usually have to say something?”

“If I tell you, do you promise to never pick me up again?” 

Clint snickered silently, and made a whipping motion with his hand. Natasha scowled at him and Bruce rolled his eyes. 

“I was being helpful.”

“No you weren’t. You were taking advantage of the fact that I’m shorter than you, which you do all the time --.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re vertically challenged.” There was a short pause before Tony very contritely said, “I’m sorry. I promise to never insult your manhood ever again, even if you do faint like a girl.” 

The two of them appeared a moment later, looking utterly unsurprised that Clint, Natasha and Bruce had been eavesdropping. Clint made a vaguely violent gesture to his mouth. 

“Finite,” Harry said flatly. 

At once Clint opened his mouth, but Harry raised a hand in the universal bid for quiet. “Not a word more about it,” Harry said firmly. Clint shrugged and nodded. “Good,” Harry said, shoulders relaxing. He looked to Tony and Bruce. “Let’s go cast this spell.”

*

The black rain had largely stopped by early morning, but it still came down in intermittent drizzles. Thankfully a quick ‘protego’ was enough to keep Tony, Harry, and Bruce protected, and, barring that, a coat with a hood, or a hat worked equally well. The two scientists carefully went over the dish, making sure that the rain hadn’t done any damage. 

“Looks fine,” Tony said, his attention on the invisible dome over their heads. 

Harry looked to Bruce who gave him a little nod. Harry drew his wand and stepped up to the amplifier, trying to swallow down the sick feeling that was rising in the back of his throat at the thought of what he was about to do. He glanced over at Tony, who was looking back with a little supportive smile. 

He took a deep breath, raised his wand and intoned, “Imperio.” 

*  
Fred’s hand jerked, accidentally spilling coffee onto the stone table. He barely noticed, his head turned and tilted as if listening to some far off noise. George was much the same, a bagel held halfway to his mouth. The voice came soon after, the outdoor speaker affixed to the bistro wall crackling mid-lyric before switching over to what was unmistakably Harry Potter’s voice. 

“Non-magical civilians currently residing or visiting Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx and Staten Island, halt your current task and seek underground shelter. Remain there until told otherwise. Do not travel. Do not attempt to flee the city. Hospitals, begin evacuating patients to one of the 20 shelter locations you were sent earlier this week. Police and firefighters, return to your station houses and await further orders.” 

Harry said it all a few more times, but Fred and George had stopped listening, instead watching all the muggles at the little café stop eating, gather their things and begin walking away. The employees began closing and locking the windows and doors, stranding Fred and George outside on the patio. The two brothers barely noticed, too caught up in watching as all of the shops down the street as the muggles there did the same thing. They watched traffic completely stop, people climbing from their cars and walking away. A few didn’t even bother to close the car doors, and Fred and George could hear the same message repeating from inside 

Several minutes later, after the press of people had dwindled to a few stragglers, George sat back and stared gravelly at his twin. 

“Ballsy,” he said shortly. 

“Obviously necessary,” Fred responded, rubbing a hand across his face. “He hates those spells. He wouldn’t have used it unless --.” 

“Unless he absolutely had to, I know,” George cut in absently. He sighed, shaking his head. “It just --.” 

“He never gets a break, but that’s why we’re here right? To help?” Fred got to his feet, eyeing his empty plate and spilled coffee mournfully. “I was going to have seconds.” 

George pointedly stuffed the rest of his bagel in his mouth. 

Fred rolled his eyes and hopped over the short fence between them and the sidewalk. He stood for a moment, tilting his head as he let the residual magic wash over him. 

“He couldn’t have done that on his own,” Fred said thoughtfully.

“Not sure about that,” George said, joining him on the other side of the fence. “Harry became a mechanic, remember? He always was smarter than he let on.” 

“Where do you reckon the spell came from?” Fred asked, spinning in a slow circle. He stopped facing deeper into the city where the buildings were closely packed together. “That way?” 

George whipped out his wand and laid it in the palm of his upturned hand. “Point me Harry Potter.” 

Like the other times, the wand spun in a jerky circle a few times before it simply stopped. Fred had always been more sensitive to sussing out magical residue, one of the few differences between them. It meant the George deferred to Fred on things like this. He motioned grandly for Fred to walk past him. Fred grinned and purposefully stepped on George’s foot as he walked by. 

*

Fleur stopped walking in the middle of the wide sidewalk. Bill, attention on the soaring buildings around him, didn’t notice until he almost ran right into her. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Someone just cast an unforgivable,” Fleur said with a frown. She was staring intently at the top of one of the buildings, the highest. “There.” 

“Do you think it’s him?” 

A moment later the speaker attached to the wall outside of the clothing store they were standing next to crackled, the low volume pulsing music cutting out. Harry’s voice wasn’t exactly a surprise, but Bill still found himself heaving a disappointed sigh. 

“Non-magical civilians currently residing or visiting Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx and Staten Island, halt your current task and seek underground shelter. Remain there until told otherwise. Do not travel. Do not attempt to flee the city. Hospitals, begin evacuating patients to one of the 20 shelter locations you were sent earlier this week. Police and firefighters, return to your station houses and await further orders.”

Harry waited a beat before saying the message again. Bill watched the muggles around him at once stop what they were doing and began walking toward the nearest subway station. 

“He’s up there right now,” Fleur said, pointing to the top of what Bill now recognized as the Empire State Building. 

Bill turned from the muggles and gave her a little nod. A moment later they apparated, appearing on a narrow deck that seemed to wrap around the top of the building. It was deserted of people, but the ground was littered with thick black cables. 

“How did you get up here?” 

The voice caught them both by surprise, but they responded as they’d been trained to. They both spun and drew their wands, Bill aiming high and his wife aiming low. 

The man looked a bit worn, reminding Bill at once of how Remus used to look after a particularly difficult full moon. His hands were raised in the universal sign of surrender. He was eyeing their wands with interest, rather than alarm. Bill decided to take a chance. 

“Where’s Harry?”

The man frowned, the light of realization entering his eyes even as they narrowed in what appeared to be distaste. 

“You’re his friends. His wizard friends from before.” 

Bill opened his mouth to defend himself, but Fleur beat him to it. 

“We aren’t the ones you’re thinking of,” she said smoothly. She shot Bill a brief glance and stowed her wand away. Bill copied her actions a beat later. “We truly are his friends. We are ‘ere to help.” 

The man finally lowered his hands. He suddenly turned his head, focused on approaching footsteps from around the corner. 

“Okay,” a familiar voice was saying. “Now we just need to take care of the foundation points for the wards. I can drop you guys at the tower and --.” 

And Bill had his first look at Harry since he’d disappeared. 

“Merlin,” he breathed and took a little step back. 

Thankfully, Fleur was able to think fast enough for both of them. She rushed forward and gave Harry a hug. She didn’t even hesitate when faced with the fact that it was nearly 10 years later and Harry had not aged at all. 

“We’re so ‘appy to see you,” she said, arms wrapped around him. “And we’re ‘ere to help.” 

Harry had yet to say anything, struck speechless at the sight of them. His eyes bounced from Bill to Fleur and back again, like he expected them to disappear. 

“What are --.” But Harry’s voice cracked, unable to finish the question. 

“We are ‘ere to ‘elp ‘Arry,” Fleur said again, wrapping him up in another hug. 

“Why would…”

“We figured we owed you,” Bill said lowly and finally came forward to give Harry his own hug. It wasn’t as enthusiastic as his wife’s, but it was just as heartfelt. “You don’t leave family to handle something like this by themselves.” 

Harry stared up at him, expression largely blank but for the slight widening of his eyes. It was the only sign that Bill and Fleur’s presence was affecting him at all. 

“I’ve got to go,” he finally said, voice oddly flat. “I have to take care of death wards.” 

“We’ll come with you,” Bill said, already running through the unweaving method in his head. There was no doubt that Harry could do it correctly, but it was Bill’s specialty. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before he gave a little nod.

“I’m Tony, by the way,” the second man said with a disarming smile. 

Harry jerked, his ears turning a bit red in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said, and motioned at Tony and the other man. “Bill, Fleur, this is Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Tony, Bruce, this is Bill and Fleur Weasley.”

“Tony Stark?” Bill repeated faintly. “The famous inventor?”

“Hah. Even wizards have heard of me.”

Harry’s lips quirked up into a little smile, which obviously had been Tony’s aim based on the way he practically basked in Harry’s expression. The other wizard seemed to gather himself up, facing Bill and Fleur with the majority of his usual confidence. 

“I could use your help,” he said. “I just need to drop these two off before we go.” 

“We’ll follow,” Bill said. 

Harry offered his arm to Tony and Bruce, waited for them to get a good grip, and disappeared with a little pop. Bill and Fleur followed in his wake. 

*

A few minutes later, Fred and George appeared on the observation deck. They examined the strange looking machine in the corner, and determined that the spell had definitely come from here. 

“Must have missed him,” Fred said. 

“Can you follow him?” George asked, looking over the city with interest. 

“If he casts another strong spell, then maybe.” 

The brothers fell silent, both of them staring out over the tall buildings. George absently pulled out his wand, laid it in the palm of his hand and said, “Point me Harry Potter.” 

“That doesn’t work,” Fred said helpfully. 

“I know it doesn’t bloody work,” George grumbled as the wand continued to spin. 

“If you know it doesn’t work then why --.”

They both stopped as the spell did something it had never done before. The wand spun faster and faster before suddenly stopping, pointing deeper into the city. The brothers shared a look and glanced back down at the wand. 

“What d’you reckon that means?” Fred asked. 

“Looks to me, like Harry finally wants to be found,” George said, pocketing his wand. 

“You speak of the warrior Harry Potter?” 

Fred and George jumped, spinning to face the owner of the smooth voice who had somehow snuck up behind them. They stared for a moment, taking in the armor and the strange helmet. 

“Friend --,” Fred began. 

“—what are you wearing?” George finished. 

The man tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing the tiniest bit. 

“You know the warrior Harry Potter,” and it was definitely not a question that time. 

“We know him,” Fred confirmed flatly. 

“Who are you?” George asked right after. 

The man offered a wry smirk, placing a long fingered hand on his chest. “I am Loki.”

“You what?” “Get away!” the brothers exclaimed at the same time. 

Loki paused, staring at them in apparent confusion. 

George offered him his hand. “Huge fan. You’ve no idea. Smashing, utterly.” Loki hesitantly wrapped his hand around George’s and George pumped their clasped hands up and down a few times before letting go. 

Fred at once took his place. “It’s an honor, my Lord. Truly. You’ve no idea.” 

“Yes,” Loki said slowly, flexing his hand once Fred had released it. “I am looking for Harry Potter. I owe him a debt.” 

Fred and George both sighed, long and slightly exasperated. “Of course you do,” they said at the same time. 

Loki scowled, his presence becoming slightly threatening. “What do you mean by this?” 

“No offence meant,” George was quick to say. 

“It’s just that, of course Harry has the God of Mischief in his debt,” Fred finished. 

“Par the course for that kid.”

“Expect the unexpected, and all that.” 

“You are familiar with Harry Potter,” Loki said in realization. He examined the two brothers carefully, his dark eyes narrowed in contemplation. “You are here to aid him in the upcoming threat?” 

“Spot on,” George said with a grave nod. “We’re having a little trouble finding him.” 

Loki produced a tall staff topped with a snake head. “I may be able to aid you in that.” 

*

Tony protested when Harry tried to leave him at Stark Tower. It was done with his normal eloquence and charm, but Harry had no trouble recognizing a Stark temper tantrum when he saw one. Bill and Fleur watched with silent bemusement as Harry calmly stared Tony down, letting the other man’s arguments wash over him until Tony finally petered out. 

“Finished?” Harry asked calmly. 

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Tony summarized flatly. 

Harry gestured at Bill and Fleur. “I won’t be alone.” 

“What am I supposed to do here without you? I cleared my whole day.” 

“You’ve started to repeat yourself,” Harry said with an amused smile. He clapped Tony on the shoulder and retreated to the other side of the room. “See you in a few,” he called over his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows at Bill and Fleur, a wordless bid for them to follow. A moment later he disapparated, Bill and Fleur following as they’d done before. 

It wasn’t hard to track the ward’s foundation points. They rang like beacons. Technically it shouldn’t have been possible, but Harry appeared right on top of them, dragging Bill and Fleur along with him. He appeared on a deserted stretch of beach long the Hudson. A quick glance was all he needed to discern that he was on the Jersey side. Thankfully that was all it took; the team setting up the wards responded as one would expect them to. Harry ignored the wands trained on him, strolling forwards with his hands sunk into his pockets. He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t really need to. 

“It’s Potter,” one of the wizards announced. The man next to him gave him a dirty look. 

“Mr. Potter,” another wizard greeted. He hesitated a moment before offering his hand. “Mike Doyle.” 

Harry paused for a moment before shaking the man’s hand. “Harry Potter,” he greeted needlessly with a rueful smile. He motioned at Bill and Fleur. “These are my friends.” Doyle waited expectantly for Harry to give their names, and frowned uncertainly when he realized they weren’t forthcoming.

“We’re glad that you’re here Mr. Potter. We were going to send you a notification about our plans, but we couldn’t get a fix on your location.” Again Doyle paused as if waiting for Harry to explain. Harry smiled placidly and remained silent. “Right well. We’re putting up wards to contain the threat. We’ve evacuated all our magical citizens. I guess that just leaves you.” 

“Right,” Harry said amicably. He strolled past Doyle and to the anchor points for the wards, examining the runes carved into the large stone. He sensed the American wizards shifting nervously around him, and knew that Bill and Fleur had separated to be able to cover the whole team at once. “Right,” he said again, a little heavier. “So here are your options. Dismantle this whole set up, and tell the other teams to do the same.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “I suppose that that’s only one option,” he added ruefully. 

Again, Doyle waited expectantly for a follow up, but at least he seemed to be figuring out that this conversation was not going to go the way he expected it to. 

“I can’t do that, sir.” 

“I’m sure you could if you tried.” 

“We’re under orders to--.” 

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Harry interrupted. “You lot obviously know who I am. You know that I can tear these down faster than you can put them up. I’m not going to let you sacrifice the people in this city.” 

To his credit Doyle did not back down, even though it was very obvious that Harry was making him nervous. 

“Better than one city than the entire world, your own government is backing us on this. Why don’t you help us?” 

“We can take care of Thanos,” Harry said confidently. “It would be easier if we weren’t fighting a war on two fronts.” 

Doyle straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I have my orders.” 

Harry turned to the rest of the team, and saw Doyle’s sentiments reflected on each of their faces. He nodded, and finally pulled his hands out of his pockets. 

“Right then,” he sighed. 

Bill and Fleur were moving before he’d even finished speaking. They drew their wands and began firing stunners, drawing the team away from Harry. Harry split his focus between the rather one sided fight going on a few yards away and the anchor stone. The last time he’d had to do this, he’d been in a rage. It had been easier then, to simply allow the magic to rush through him and do his bidding. He raised a hand at the stone, seeing the weave of the magic there, almost ready to be activated. He pried each weave loose and tossed it away to be absorbed into the earth. It was hard work at first; the weaves were unfamiliar, altered just enough so that Harry had to find a new approach to something that he had already done before. Harry closed his eyes and focused on the stone completely, trusting Bill and Fleur to watch his back. As the weaves began to unravel, it became easier and easier to pick out each new piece. The bottom layers to a construct like this were always the weakest. Finally he felt the almost finished wards fall. When he opened his eyes the stone had crumbled to dust. 

Bill was standing next to it, shaking his head darkly. 

“I hope that you don’t still blame yourself,” Harry said quietly. 

Bill’s head snapped up, eyes slightly narrowed. “Not as much,” he said quietly. “But the fact that they used me to create something so evil will never be untrue.” 

Fleur sighed sadly and touched his arm. Bill offered her a weak smile. “Bill…” she began but Bill shook his head. 

“I’m fine,” he said firmly, and he actually did sound okay. 

Harry eyed him for a moment before he gave a little nod and turned away. 

“Come on,” he said. “Eight more to go.”

*

“Peter, for the last time. Get away from the freaking window.” 

Peter ducked his head for a moment, anticipating some sort of physical retaliation. When it didn’t come he went back to peering through the window, watching as people mindlessly tromped down the subway stairs. 

“I can’t figure it,” he sighed. 

“You’ve said.” 

“I mean, those Avenger guys. It must be them. It has to be.” 

Felicia just heaved a long sigh from where she was stretched out on the couch. Peter glanced over at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Aren’t you worried?” 

“Not really,” she said idly, pointedly turning a page in the magazine she was reading. Peter turned and stared at her and she sighed again. “What do you want me to say? Of course I’m worried. But I’m not going to lie and say that I’m happy that that Fury guy is leaving us alone.” 

Peter couldn’t disagree with her on that one. It was a miracle that they had been able to dodge Nick Fury at all. He’d been hounding them for years, even when Peter had tried to hang up his mask and retire from being a super hero. Felicia had never been as careful as Peter, despite his warnings. The last few months had been quiet though, and with the alien attack it had become clear that S.H.I.E.L.D had had bigger things to worry about.

“Should we help?” Peter asked. 

Felicia rolled her eyes. “We both know that goody-two-shoes Peter Parker is going to find a way to help whether I say no or not.” 

“We can at least help protect the people underground,” Peter said, undeterred by her snark. “We can’t just stand by and do nothing.” 

Felicia finally put her magazine down, frowning at Peter. 

“We had no idea what was going on Peter. By the time we could have done anything, the whole thing was over.” 

“Well now we know,” Peter said decisively. 

He moved across the tiny living/bedroom to the antique chest acting as their coffee table. Felicia grudgingly moved her feet. Peter barely had to dig at all. The wrist cannons were a little dusty, but when Peter snapped them on they fit as well as they ever did. He’d barely gotten a chance to use them before he’d been sighted by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. For the record, he’d only been trying to get to school on time. Thankfully he’d managed to duck away before they’d learned his name. He’d barely used his powers since then, graduating high school and college while pretending to be completely normal. He’d almost managed it too, but Felicia had caught him scaling one of the builds on campus in search of some alone time. It had been hard at first, getting over the fact that she was putting herself through school by stealing things for a living. But nothing brought two people together like a shared secret. 

Peter looked up from his wrist cannons to see that Felicia had changed out of her sweats into the outfit she used to wear to her burglaries. He hadn’t seen her in for more than a year. 

It still fit. 

“Stare much?” she said coyly, twisting up her long platinum blonde hair.

“Can you blame me?” he definitely did not squeak. 

Felicia just shook her head and finished putting her hair up. Suddenly she seemed a little hesitant, shifting slightly before seemingly making a decision and opening their dresser. 

“I have something for you,” she said without looking at him. “You can’t laugh.” 

Peter crossed his heart and did his best to look very earnest. Felicia snorted, sighed, and then straightened. Her hands were behind her back. 

“Don’t laugh,” she said again. 

Peter raised his eyebrows and managed to look even more earnest, his eyebrows twitching a little bit from the strain. Felicia finally presented a mostly red bundle to him. Peter took it curiously, and shook it out. His mouth dropped open. 

“Fel…what is this?”

“I had my guy make it. You know…” She motioned at her own body suit. She lifted one of the arms. “Here’s a place for your cannons. The gloves and boots are porous, so you shouldn’t have any trouble climbing.” She jerked slightly and turned back to the drawer, pulling something else out. “So you can keep that oh so important secret identity.” 

Peter laid the suit carefully on the couch, and took the mask that Felicia offered him. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. 

Felicia smiled, and pressed a kiss to his slack lips. “It’s okay,” she said. “I know.” 

“You’re amazing.” 

“I know,” she said again. 

Peter put the mask down and kissed her properly. “Best girlfriend ever,” he said against her lips. “In the entire universe.” 

“Don’t you want to try it on?” Felicia asked. 

“Later,” Peter said firmly, backing her up toward their small bed. “I think we have time.” 

*

“Are you sure about this?” 

“Are you questioning me, mortal?” 

George thought for a moment, sharing a glance with his brother before they both nodded. 

“It just seems a little…” 

“Flashy for Harry.” 

“This is their base,” Loki said confidently.

“Right well, do we just ring the buzzer?” Fred asked. 

Loki paused, a scowl blooming on his face. “The warrior Potter has warded this place. I cannot enter without his permission.” 

Fred and George shared another look before turning to look at the doors. “The buzzer is right there,” George said and pointed to a complicated looking mechanism mounted next to the door.

Loki glowered, but remained silent. George approached the panel, sensing his brother and the God of Mischief falling in behind him. He knew that it was probably a doorbell, but it had no visible buttons. George poked it and the screen instantly turned red. 

“What does that mean?” Fred asked from over his shoulder. 

“Obviously it means that we don’t have permission to enter,” Loki said, and George did not have to look at him to know that he was rolling his eyes. 

“So do we just wait around out here?” George asked. 

In answer, Fred sat down and made himself comfortable on the sidewalk. George hesitated for a moment before joining his twin. They both looked up at Loki, who sneered down his nose at them. 

About 20 minutes later he deigned to lean against the side of the building. 

An hour passed before he finally joined the twins on the sidewalk, watching the card game they were playing while pretending to ignore them.

Half an hour after that, he suddenly got to his feet. Fred and George followed, glancing around to see what the Asgardian had noticed.

A moment later, Harry appeared before them, two familiar figures standing beside him. 

“Fred? George?” Bill said. His shock was audible, but so was his exhaustion. 

“Oh look…” Fred began. 

“…It’s a party!” George finished. 

“What are you two doing ‘ere?” Fleur asked. 

“I assume the same reason you’re here,” Fred said, and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Family takes care of each other,” he added with a grin. 

Harry didn’t seem too surprised to see them, but it might have been because he looked absolutely exhausted. He clasped wrists with George, smiling a little grimly. 

“Honestly, I’m glad that you guys are here.” He turned to include Bill and Fleur in the statement. “Thank you.” 

“No thanks necessary mate,” George said seriously. 

Harry tilted his head to the side and gave a little nod. He turned to Loki, who had remained quiet through their reunion. 

“Warrior,” he greeted formally. “I am here to honor my debt.”

Harry sighed and nodded, clasping wrists with Loki as well. The god seemed a bit surprised at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. 

“You’re all keyed into the wards,” he announced. He eyed Loki pensively. “You’d best be careful of Clint.” He paused. “And Tony,” he added. Another pause. “Be careful of everyone but Rogers and Romanov.” 

Loki’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Hmm,” Harry hummed uncommittedly. “Come on, before Tony wears a hole in the floor.”


	3. The Breach

Soon after Harry left, Tony descended into his workshop to fiddle with a few suit modifications he’d been working on, but that had been hours ago. 

Now worry, and boredom, had driven him back into the main living area, where he’d sequestered a section of the couch and coffee table. He’d brought a soldering iron up with him, and was working on a set of handless communicators. Clint and Natasha were still working through their respective piles of weaponry, but they had moved from the kitchen into the living room. All the local news stations were off their air, the people necessary for running them no doubt heading underground, but they were still getting all the typical movie channels. 

Clint had discovered a Indiana Jones marathon and had switched it on with child-like glee. Steve and Thor had become entranced, if somewhat reluctantly on Steve’s part. Bruce was sharing the couch with Tony, idly watching the man work. 

Things were quiet, but that quickly changed when Jarvis’ voice announced that Harry had returned. 

“He has a number of guests with him,” the A.I. dutifully reported.

“Guests?” Tony repeated with a frown. 

The elevator doors slid open and Harry appeared looking more exhausted than Tony had ever seen him. “The wards are taken care of,” he said simply and walked past them all into the kitchen. 

The Avengers had all jumped to their feet, staring down the group that had cautiously exited the elevator.

“Potter!” Clint called over his shoulder. “Why is Loki in our living room?” 

Harry didn’t answer right away. There was th e sound of running water, and then the click of the stove lighting. Finally he reappeared, leaning against the archway leading to the kitchen. Coincidently, his position put him right in-between the two uneasy groups. 

“Loki says he’s here to help,” Harry said plainly. 

“Yeah well he says that, but I can’t help up recall the millions of dollars of destruction and the numerous lives he took the last time he was here,” Clint said sharply. “I thought that he was getting locked up?” he asked Thor. 

“As if they could hold me,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. 

“You are not here with Father’s permission?” Thor asked, and the frown on his face was quite telling. 

Loki’s gaze jumped to Harry’s for a moment before he looked back to the other Asgardian. “My work is here.” 

“Cute,” Tony drawled, but his attention on the twins, who were looking around with interest. “And who are they?” 

“Fred,” “George,” they said at the same time. 

“We’re here to help our adopted bro Harry…” 

“Because that’s what family’s for.”

No one else noticed, but Tony was watching, so he saw the way Harry’s face twitched. A shrill whistling split the air, and Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“What was that?” he blurted. 

“Tea kettle,” Harry explained, eyebrows so high that they had disappeared into his fringe. 

Tony settled, glowering. “I don’t have a tea kettle.” 

“I brought mine from home,” Harry explained. “What respectable Englishman wouldn’t have a kettle handy?” 

He once again disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two groups to resume their uneasy staring. 

Surprisingly it was Natasha who broke the standoff, tilting her head as her focus shifted on the pale haired woman Harry had introduced as Fleur. 

“Where did you get those boots?” she asked. 

Fleur smiled, extending her leg slightly so Natasha could see the boots better. “A boutique in Nice. Lovely, aren’t they? Your jacket?” 

Natasha smiled as well, proudly picking at her collar. “Barneyes.” 

“I ‘ave wanted to go!” Fleur said enthusiastically. 

Natasha looked sheepish for a moment before she managed to bury the expression. “It was damaged in the attack.” 

Fleur looked crestfallen for a moment, and Tony watched in shock as the two women seemed to mourn together. He locked eyes with Clint, who was staring at the back of Natasha’s head like he’s never seen her before. Harry once again appeared at the archway, expression blank. 

“Tea’s on.” 

At once the three red-heads moved toward the kitchen. Fleur’s husband hesitated for a moment when it was clear his wife was attempting to stay behind in order to talk to Natasha. 

“They’ll be fine,” Tony said and motioned the man forward. “Something tells me that their conversation is about to get hella esoteric.” 

Clint and Steve hung back as well, eyeing Loki with distrust. Tony once again played the peacekeeper, motioning everyone into the kitchen and around his huge counter island. Harry was pouring out tea like a proper Englishman, wielding milk and sugar like a pro. Tony waved him away with a grin, amused at how domestic his friend was being. Harry spared a moment to glower at him before he went back to work making sure that everyone was served. He’d even tossed a box of girlscout cookies on the counter. 

When everyone was settled, Harry leaned back on the fridge with his own mug as he called attention to himself by clearing his throat. The two groups had picked sides, with the Avengers on one side of the island and the wizards and Loki on the other side. Natasha and Fleur were the only ones sitting on the far side, seemingly quite content with each other. Tony took in the positioning with idle amusement, noting that Harry was standing at the ‘head’ of the counter where everyone could see him. 

His posture was relaxed, but the air of command was irrefutable. Tony glanced at Steve and found the man watching Harry just as intently as everyone else. Huh. Interesting. 

“So,” Harry began, drawing Tony from his thoughts. “The wards are taken care of. Those anchor points are unusable now. It would take them a lot of time and work to undo the shields I put up. Hopefully this whole thing will be over by the time they can work through what I did.” 

“What stops them from just trying somewhere else?” Steve asked. 

“They can’t,” Bill answered. “Those anchor points are very specific. They depend on the area they wish to contain and the ley lines in the earth that power the wards. Thankfully they can’t just go anywhere.” 

Steve took a moment to process that before he offered a small nod of understanding. 

“Okay,” Harry said wearily. “So tomorrow I think that we should visit each of the shelters and make sure that they’re secure.” He glanced at Steve who once again nodded in agreement.

“We should be sure to report to Fury at some point tomorrow,” Steve said. “We should inform him that the death wards have been taken care of.”

“You can do that,” Harry said with a wince. “Once a week is about all I can stand.” 

Tony quickly put a hand on his nose, making sure to look casual as he did so. Clint, Bruce, Thor and Natasha did the same. Steve stared at them uncomprehendingly. 

“Harry!” Tony hissed loudly and pointedly nudged his nose. 

Harry stared at him for a long moment before he rolled his eyes. He did touch a finger to his nose however, so it was still a total win. 

“I do not understand,” Loki said slowly. 

“You and me together mate,” one of the twins said. 

The other twin shrugged and put a finger on his nose anyway. 

“It is a game, Brother!” Thor boomed. “The last to touch their nose must do the task that the others do not wish to.” 

Loki stared around at all of them and shook his head. “Mortals…” he said disgustingly. 

“Looks like you’re reporting to Fury all on your own buddy,” Clint told Steve with a grin. 

Steve still looked a bit confused, but now that everyone had removed their hands from their faces he quickly moved on. 

“That’s fine,” he said calmly. “What if he has questions?” 

“Bill?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“Sure,” Bill said without hesitation. “I’ll come with you,” he told Steve. 

“Tony, is it okay if they stay in the Tower?” 

“No problem,” Tony said. “I have more than enough space.” 

“Then if that’s everything,” Harry said tiredly and began to move to put his mug in the sink. 

“What about him?” Clint said coolly, jerking his head at Loki. “We can’t just let him run around.”

Loki’s face twisted up into a very unpleasant expression, but a single glance at Harry was enough to calm him. He subsided without saying anything. 

Harry crossed his arms, looking between Loki and Clint. Finally he settled his gaze on Loki and raised his eyebrows. Loki stared back at him, a scowl quickly painting itself across his face as he realized what Harry wanted of him. Tony leaned forward and watched his interest, wondering if Loki would give in or remain stubborn. Harry tilted his head to the side, expression turning impatient. 

Finally Loki sighed explosively through his nose. “I regret what was done to you,” he told Clint without making eye contact. “It was not personal.” 

If anything, Clint’s expression grew even frostier, eyes turning hard and dangerous. “Not personal?” he repeated flatly. 

Loki stared back at him, unconcerned. Tony peeked up at Harry, clearly seeing the way exhaustion dragged his shoulders down, and etched stark weary lines across his forehead and around his eyes. Harry drew in a breath, no doubt to try to make peace. Surprisingly, Steve was already talking. 

“I’m with Clint on this,” he said gravely. “However, I won’t deny that if Loki’s help would be appreciated, if his offer is genuine.” 

“What about Fury?” Natasha asked simply. 

Steve shifted on his stool, looking uncomfortable. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Harry asked idly. Steve shrugged, and nodded, looking a bit relieved. “Don’t tell him.” Tony’s laugh emerged as a sharp bark, quickly muffled when Harry glowered at him. “Look,” he sighed. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.” 

“Here here!” one of the twins agreed. 

A quick glance at Clint revealed that he still wasn’t happy, but he didn’t raise any more protests. Harry sighed and continued toward the sink, rinsing out his mug. 

“I’m gonna go down for a nap,” he announced. “Tony?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Tony said, knowing what Harry was asking. 

Harry nodded, acknowledged each person in the room with a little wave, and shuffled off to his bedroom.   
Tony rubbed his hands together, grinning charmingly at his new guests. The twins grinned back, Bill looked a little shifty while his wife offered a serene smile back.

“Let me give you the tour,” he said, hopping to his feet. “You all can tell me embarrassing stories about when Harry was young.” 

*

It wasn’t running or hiding, Harry told himself. He truly was exhausted; pulling the wards down like that, and then building his own on the fly had not been easy. 

Harry rubbed carefully at the tense skin between his eyes, trying to massage away his headache. It was futile, he knew that. What he really needed was a potion, but his kit was in the living room. It wasn’t hiding. It wasn’t. He just didn’t feel like trekking back out there.

Instead he laid down on the bed, tugging one of the pillows over his face to block out the afternoon sun shining through the window.

*

It seemed that Natasha and Fleur had become fast friends overnight. They were in the kitchen chatting when Harry finally dragged himself out of bed the next morning. He’d slept all night, not his intention, but he felt better for it. Natasha had already started making coffee, which Harry took full advantage of. 

“’nd you do t’is every morning?” Fleur asked. 

“Alternate mornings. It gives the muscles time to rest.” 

“Fascinating. Witches ‘ave no need of t’is. Only athletes and aurors train so.”

“Aurors?”

“Ah. You’d call them police, I t’ink.”

Harry listened to the chatter idly, thoughts on the wards he’d planned to place around the shelters now that everyone was inside. The others slowly made their way to the kitchen, pointedly descending upon the coffee pot. Harry waited until everyone was a least slightly caffeinated before pulling Fred and George aside. 

“I need a way to do a specific wide area damage,” he told them. 

The twins glanced at each other. “What sort of damage?” Fred asked. 

“The final kind.”

George tilted his face up at the ceiling, while Fred rubbed a hand across his mouth. 

“One condition,” George said idly. “We get to work with Loki.” 

Harry opened his mouth to shoot down that request at once. George raised his hand in a bid for silence. “Hear us out,” he said. “We don’t have all of our tools here.” 

“You want something that will work, and you want it fast. We’ll need help.” 

“His magic is strong.” 

“And he’s Loki.” 

“That last one doesn’t count as an argument,” Harry pointed out, smiling thinly. 

“Shows what you know,” George said cheekily. 

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Fine,” he said grudgingly. “But don’t destroy the Tower. We just got it cleaned up.” 

“Wicked,” Fred said, tone already distracted. “Do you have any--?”

“My bedroom. There’s a trunk in there that should have most things you need. I assume you brought at least something with you?” 

“Of course!” “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Harry smiled at them. “Go find him then. I think he’s hiding on the roof.” 

The twins were off at once. Even with the twin’s promise, Harry was glad that he would be gone for most of the day. Tony ambled over, a familiar red and silver suitcase in his hand. 

“We going?” 

“Yeah. Where’s Clint?”

The man in question dropped from the ceiling, bow strapped to his back. Tony took a startled step back; Harry just glowered at him. 

“Nice try,” he said flatly. 

“I’ll get you one day.” 

“Sure,” Harry said lightly. “Grab on.” 

*

They hopped from shelter to shelter, encountering no one as they went. Law enforcement remained in their headquarters, awaiting orders from S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony and Clint watched with unabashed interest as Harry cast his spells, ensuring that the people inside would be safe, and that no one with ill intent could enter. The spells were simple compared to what he had done the day before, so admittedly Harry was not paying very close attention to his surroundings. By the last shelter he was running largely on autopilot. Thankfully Clint had not grown so complacent.

“3 o’clock,” he announced softly. “There, on the roof.” Harry and Tony glanced over, but couldn’t make out what Clint had seen. “Keep going,” the agent said. “I’ll circle around.” 

Harry went back to casting, trusting Tony to keep him covered. He was almost finished when Clint returned, leading two people trailing behind him. 

The man elbowed the woman and loudly hissed, “It’s Tony Stark.”

The woman had on a mask, but it did little to hide her features. Instead it highlighted the sharp gray of her eyes, which narrowed in annoyance. 

“I know its Tony Stark,” she hissed back.

In contrast the man was covered from head to toe, perhaps making up for all the skin that his companion was showing. The mask crinkled slightly, as if the man was grinning. 

“Hi Mr. Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have no idea.” 

Tony shook the guy’s hand, glancing at Harry and Clint in bemusement. “Likewise,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Call me Spider-man.” 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Black Cat, I suppose.” 

“Clint, codename: Hawkeye,” Clint introduced with a grin. 

“Hi, I’m Iron Man.” 

The four of them turned to Harry, staring at him expectantly. Harry blinked back at them before he rolled his eyes. “Harry,” he said flatly. Spider-man and Black Cat seemed prepared to wait for further explanation. Harry shot that down by raising his eyebrows and asking, “What are you doing here?” 

“Well with all the warnings, we figured that something nasty was up. When everyone zombie walked underground yesterday, we figured that things were coming to a head. We were just about to check out the shelter when you showed up,” Spider-man explained, voice slightly muffled by the mask. “We were going to make sure that everyone was safe, but then you showed up and started waving your hands around.” 

Again Spider-man paused, question explicit. Harry blew right passed it. “And the costumes?” 

“Wait,” Clint interrupted. “Black Cat. Why is that so familiar?” Black Cat seemed unbothered, but Spider-man shifted nervously under Clint’s attention. “You were that thief,” Clint announced triumphantly. “Fury had us running all over the place looking for you. And you, you’re that kid with the webs.” Clint looked over both of them, head tilted to the side in thought. “Subtle,” he said as he motioned at their attire.

“Does that mean that you’re with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

Clint shrugged and nodded. “I’m a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” 

Spider-man’s expression was hidden from them, but his sudden tenseness could not be ignored. Black Cat had taken a single step back, doubtlessly to give her more room to maneuverer if she felt she needed it. 

“Relax,” Tony said, and flapped his hands at them. “Clint is pretty much harmless.” 

“Pretty much,” Clint grumbled and rolled his eyes. 

“So they’ll fit right in at the Tower,” Tony said and raised his eyebrows at Harry. “What do you think?” 

“The more the merrier,” Harry said simply. “It’s going to get dangerous out here,” he told the newcomers. “We’d like you to come with us, or at least do down into one of the shelters.” 

“We can help,” Spider-man said earnestly. 

“Okay,” Harry said. He offered his arm. “Grab on.” 

Spider-man and Black Cat looked hesitant, but they each wrapped a hand around Harry’s forearm. He offered his other arm to Clint and Harry, who weren’t nearly so tentative.

“So gallant,” Clint said and batted his eyelashes. 

“Keep it up and you’re walking.” 

“Tony, he’s being mean to me.” 

“What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Hold on,” Harry said, and apparated. 

Tony staggered, grabbing Harry’s shoulder to stay upright. Clint, Spider-man and Black Cat landed lightly, as if they they’d had practice. Harry stepped away, making a mental note. 

“Tony?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Tony said flippantly. He effortlessly gained Spider-man and Black Cat’s attention. “Follow me kids.”

Black Cat hissed under her breath, but dutifully followed Tony into the elevator. Harry ran a hand over his face and turned to Natasha, who had said nothing when Harry had appeared in the middle of the living room with two costumed teenagers. Harry had to admit, her restraint was something to be admired. 

“Go ahead,” he welcomed. 

Instead of laying into him the way her scowl screamed her wanted to, Natasha crossed her arms and looked to Clint. Clint looked between them, and then he shrugged. 

“Remember that kid that Fury had us chasing through the City a few years back? The one with webs?” 

Natasha seemed to make the connection at once, because she sighed explosively and rolled her eyes. “And the other one?” 

“Black Cat.” 

“Of course,” Natasha said shortly. She perched herself on the back of the couch, and crossed her legs. 

“That’s her pissed pose,” Clint told Harry under his breath. “Tread lightly, man.” 

“Look, it was either leave them out there by themselves, or bring them here.” Harry’s shrugged was unrepentant. “Tony’s taking them down to his lab so Jarvis can scan them in, get a feel for what they can do.” 

“Sir, yes sir,” Clint drawled. 

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and his head snapped around to pin his coldest glare onto Clint. The archer shrank back, palms raised in surrender. 

“Nevermind,” he blurted.

Harry eyed him for a moment before turning away. “I’ll be on the balcony if anyone needs me.”

Harry stopped at in the kitchen to grab a beer, and threw himself down on one of the patio chairs. Without the sound of the city below, Harry felt a bit like he was underwater, or there was something in his ears. He did his best to ignore it, taking short pulls from his beer until it was empty. Then he reached up and removed his glasses. He set them on the small table next to his beer, and then threw an arm over his eyes. 

*

“My champion approaches.”

Harry’s head snapped up, eyeing the nebulous limbo space with annoyance. “Can’t a bloke take a nap without being bothered by all this prophetic nonsense? And if Thanos is your bloody champion, then what are you doing here talking to me?” 

Death turned her face in his direction, features hidden by her deep hood.

“Though Thanos seeks my love through the kill, you are my Master still.” 

“Knock that off,” Harry commanded sharply. 

“You dare!” 

Harry jerked, his head twisting around in search of the new voice. It came from above, yet when Harry could not see the source. 

“You dare to speak to her that way?”

Harry sighed to himself, staring up at the limitless swirling sky. “Thanos, I presume.”

“Tiny moral. I will destroy you, and then I will destroy everything you’ve ever loved.”

“I’m shaking,” Harry said dryly. “Come at me then. Come at us. This planet is defended.” Laugher echoed all around him, but Harry’s only response was to roll his eyes. “Come at me,” he said again. 

“I come mortal. I come for you.”

The laughter continued but Harry ignored it. Instead he extended his senses, trying to feel out how close Thanos was. It was hard to tell. Thanos’ presence felt huge, seemingly stretching from horizon to horizon. But no, when Harry looked deeper he could feel the edges. He could feel the cracks, as small as they were. He delved deeper, and felt Thanos rise up to meet him. They circled each other, reaching out with sharp probing jabs. Distance prevented them from dealing out any real damage, so they settled on warily sussing each other out. Harry could sense Thanos’ arrogance, and he revealed in it. The higher they are etc, etc. Very little about killing Voldemort had been enjoyable, but seeing the look of supreme surprise on his face when Harry’s killed him. He would see it on Thanos’ face as well, or at least he would help put it there. 

Thanos snarled at him, and this time Harry laughed. 

When he opened his eyes he was smiling. He pulled his arm from across his eyes, turning his head as he went. Bill was seated in the chair next to him, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His eyebrows rose when he noticed that Harry was looking at him, but he was silent. 

Harry sat up, reaching for his beer. “Go ahead,” Harry invited lowly. “Let’s get it over with.” 

Bill pressed his clasped hands to his chin, staring at Harry with level silence. Harry leaned back in the chair and quickly finished off his beer. 

Bill sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and then spoke. “You look good Harry. Tired, but good.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said warily. 

“Word is, the Potter genes are particularly strong. I don’t think that they were that good.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Harry said shortly.

Bill nodded, unfazed. “I’m not going to say the obvious. There’s no point in that. Tell me what’s going on.” 

Harry fiddled with the label on his beer, looking at anything but Bill. The older man cleared his throat and shifted pointedly. 

“Harry,” he sighed. 

“What?” Harry snapped. “What do you want to hear? I’m a freak Bill. I don’t age, and I’ll never die. There.” 

“Okay,” Bill said calmly. “How did that happen?”

Harry explained the whole thing, all while staring down at his hands. He wasn’t sure what Ron and Hermione had said to the rest of the family but it didn’t matter. Harry started from the beginning. Bill didn’t interrupt him. He was completely silent and remained that way even when Harry was done. After his voice died away, all there they heard was the sound of the wind blowing past the building. Finally, Bill heaved a long sigh. 

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Do they know?” Bill asked lightly. 

“No,” Harry growled. “And they don’t need to know.” 

“Okay,” Bill agreed easily. 

Harry finally looked up, eyeing Bill incredulously. “That’s it?” 

Bill shrugged and finally sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. “We can’t always control what the world does to us.” 

Harry frowned staring intently at Bill’s face. “Okay,” he agreed tiredly. 

“It makes sense now, why you stayed away. You didn’t have to.” 

“Yeah I did,” Harry said flatly. “Ron and Hermione wouldn’t have understood. They would have tried to fix me.” 

“And eventually you would have out-stubborned them.” 

“I was tired of fighting,” Harry admitted. 

Bill’s expression fell slightly, and Harry knew that he understood. “Okay,” he said again. “I won’t say anything. But we’re here to help you Harry. You don’t have to run from us.”

Harry didn’t say anything to that, because there was nothing much he could say. So he stood, clapped Bill on the shoulder, and left the balcony. He thought about heading to the room Tony had given him. Instead he took the elevator down 2 levels to Tony’s workshop. 

The music was blaring, and Tony was leaned back on the two back legs of his chair. He was surrounded by holograms, eyes wide and unblinking as he manipulated them with minute hand gestures. Harry quietly pulled up a chair, put his feet up near Tony’s and watched. Admittedly, a majority of it went over Harry’s head. He was a passing good mechanic, but this was computer engineering. Still, Harry sat back and absorbed. It was hours before Tony surfaced. He leaned forward and pressed his hands over his eyes. 

“Trouble?” 

“OhmygodJesusChrist - What?!” 

Harry snorted as Tony almost startled out of his chair. The older man pressed a hand against his arc reactor, glowering heavily. 

“What?” Harry asked innocently. 

“Shit,” Tony sighed as he caught his breath. Harry laughed, placing his feet back down on the ground. “When did you get here?” 

“A few hours ago.”

“Jarvis?” 

“That is correct sir. Mr. Potter entered the workshop approximately 3 hours ago.”

Tony still had a bit of a glower on his face but it was beginning to clear as he recovered from his scare. “Why are you hiding down here?” he asked. 

“Who says I’m hiding?”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, and his head tipped to the side. “I’m a genius Harry. Give a guy a little credit.” 

Harry shrugged. “So what’s the deal with those two kids?” 

“I handed them off to Bruce. The one in the red spandex, Spider-boy or whatever, he’s got some weirdness going on in his bio-chemistry. He’s not all human. The other one, Black Widow Jr., is all human.” 

“Okay,” Harry said musingly. “How did they escape the spell?” 

Tony grinned, spinning around in his chair to face Harry better. “That’s your fault buddy.” 

“What?” 

“You used the word civilian. Obviously the kids don’t consider themselves civilians.” Harry rolled his eyes, incredulous and slightly disappointed in himself. “Stop that,” Tony commanded lightly. “No harm done. And we can use the help. You said so yourself.” 

“Right,” Harry sighed. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Okay seriously. What’s going on?” 

Harry twisted his fingers together, staring off into the middle distance. Tony didn’t let him stew for long. Very typically, he reached out and spun Harry’s chair around so they were facing each other. 

“Spill.” 

Overwhelmed and more than a little exhausted by the whole thing, Harry drew in a breath to speak. Before he could utter one syllable a picture of Nick Fury appeared in the glass table. Tony growled under his breath. 

“Hold that thought,” he said, and accepted the call. 

“Potter!” Fury snapped. 

“Goddamn it,” Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “What?”

“Who gave you the right to pull additional people into this operation?”

“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t,” Harry said. “What’s the problem? The more people we have to help, the more likely we’ll be successful.” 

“Standard procedure--.” 

“I’m not one of your soldiers Fury.” 

“Potter--.” 

But Harry wasn’t listening. His eyes clenched shut and his clenched his jaw against the sudden pain in his head. 

“I’m here tiny mortal. You’re first!”

*

Admittedly, Tony had blocked out the conversation when it became clear that Fury was only doing more of the same. He did begin paying attention when Fury’s annoyed growling changed tone. 

“Are you listening to me? Potter?!” 

Tony looked up, and only had to glance at Harry’s face to know that something was wrong. 

“We’ll call you back,” Tony said dismissively and disconnected the call. He moved out of his chair, standing directly in front of Harry. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gave him a little shake. “Jarvis?” 

“His vitals are within normal parameters sir.” 

“Call the others.” 

“Of course sir.” 

Bruce appeared barely a minute later, Spider-man and Black Cat trailing behind him. 

“What’s going on?” 

“He won’t respond,” Tony said, reluctantly stepping back to give Bruce access. 

“Harry,” Bruce called loudly. He placed his fingers against Harry’s neck, and then moved to thumb open one of his eyes. “What was he doing before this?” 

“Fury called. Harry was getting chewed out again.” 

“Hmm.” 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as soon as the door slid open. Tony’s workshop, not small by any means, suddenly seemed very crowded. “What’s wrong now?” 

“Not sure,” Bruce said distractedly. 

Fleur moved forward, lightly placing the back of his knuckles against Harry’s forehead. “’e iz fighting.”

“Fighting?” Natasha parroted incredulously. “Fighting who?” 

“Three guesses and the first two don’t count,” Clint said gravely. 

“He is engaged with Thanos,” Loki said, voice heavy with his curiosity. He made a move to get closer but an aggressive glance from Clint arrested the motion. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir, but you might want to see this.” Unbidden, Jarvis deactivated the tint on the windows, giving the team a view of the New York skyline. It was late afternoon, but the sky was abnormally dark. Even as they watched, it grew darker. 

“That can’t be anything good,” Tony said. 

There was a thunderclap, louder and sharper than any Tony had ever heard. 

“Pretty sure that’s nothing good,” Tony said.

Then the sky quite literally split like a seam, revealing a dark abyss beyond.

“Definitely not good.”


	4. The Plunge

Peter could feel Felicia’s nervousness. It had been growing exponentially since they’d been transported to the tower. Now, as the sky split open in front of them, he reached out and grasped her wrist. At first glance, her expression was unconcerned, but Peter knew her. He could see the fear in her eyes. He wished that he was brave enough to take his mask off, make proper eye contact with her. He settled for squeezing her fingers. It was enough. Her shoulders straightened, fear retreating.

“We need to get down there,” Captain America was saying, already tugging off his jacket. “Everyone suit up.” 

“Hold up,” Mr. Stark said. “Let’s all slow down for a moment. Look.” He pointed out the window at the rip. There was no activity there, just a gaping opening in the sky. “You said he was fighting Thanos,” Stark said, turning his attention to Loki. “What does that mean exactly?” 

Loki hesitated, glancing between Potter, Thor and Stark as if deciding exactly how much he wanted to say. “It is mind magic,” he said simply. 

Peter was glad that he wasn’t the only person who was staring dumbly. 

“Do you mean Legilimency?” Bill asked. 

“I’m not familiar with that term,” Loki said dismissively. “Their thoughts are in conflict. That much is obvious.” 

“And can Thanos attack us while he’s fighting Harry?” 

Captain America was shaking his head before Mr. Stark was even finished speaking. “We can’t count on that. We have to move Stark.” 

“Yeah? And do what? Haven’t you figured out that without Harry we’re pretty freaking outmatched here?” 

Captain America fell silent, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth. “I vote we head out,” Felicia said into the silence. “The bad guys will come out of the hole eventually right? We should be there to stop them.” 

“I’m with the cat burglar,” Natasha said. 

“Go suit up,” Steve commanded, and this time everyone jumped to do as told. Peter hesitated, uncomfortable with Stark’s slightly overwhelmed expression. Felicia lingered as well, shifting impatiently behind him. 

“Uh, I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Peter said, greatly hoping that circumstances didn’t make a liar of him. 

Stark snorted and collapsed into the empty chair next to Harry’s. “Thanks kid.” 

“It’s like he’s sleeping,” Banner announced helplessly. “There’s nothing we can do. We should join the others.” 

The indecision was blatant on Stark’s face. Finally he shook his head. “I’ll stay. He’ll need someone to get him up to speed.” Dr. Banner looked hesitant but in the end he just nodded. “Go with them. I’ll be along soon.” 

Peter and Felicia followed Dr. Banner to the elevator. The doors closed, and the three of them stood in silence for a moment before Peter couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

“Are they like-?” 

“No,” Dr. Banner interrupted. “Though they do remind you a a bit of an old married couple, don’t they?” 

The elevator doors parted, revealing the rest of the team waiting for them in the lobby. Captain America, decked out in his iconic costume and holding his shield, scowled when he saw them. 

“Where’s Stark?” 

“He’s waiting with Harry,” Banner reported with a little shrug. 

Captain America heaved a loud frustrated sigh and turned from them. “Okay,” he called loudly. “Barton you head up top, give us a running report of what might be headed our way. Spider-man, you go with him. Romanov, the Weasleys, Black Cat, Banner and I will be on the streets. Thor and Loki will take to the sky. For now, we’ll take positions and wait for my signal.”

There were nods all around. Captain America gave them one more look over, nodded and led the way out of the Tower. 

*

Tony did his best not to fidget, but it was hard doing. Many times over the last few minutes he had to fight with himself not to reach out and poke Harry awake. There was little else to do but to sit and watch his unmoving face, but Tony had never done well with being idle before. Instead he wordlessly pulled up video feeds of the various observation points they’d set up in the city. 

The alert for an incoming call took him by surprise, and he answered without really thinking about it. Fury’s scowl greeted him as he appeared on the display, and Tony heaved a tiny distressed sigh. 

“Hey there, buttercup. What can I do for you?” 

“What’s going on Stark?” 

“Well,” Tony said, stretching the word out a bit. “The sky split open.”

Fury’s eye ticked over to Harry’s slack face, but he didn’t ask. Apparently the sky splitting took priority. 

“Report.” 

Tony heaved another little sigh and told Fury what he knew. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Fury turned away to someone off screen and began giving orders. 

“And patch me through to Rogers,” he said, already turning away. “Why aren’t you out there?” Fury asked suddenly, his scowl deepening. 

Tony motioned at Harry, but didn’t explain further. It was mostly due to the fact that he had little information to give, but there was no reason to tell Fury that. Fury managed to look even more unimpressed, and disconnected the call. 

That bit of excitement over, Tony turned to examine his friend again. 

“Come on buddy. We’ve got people depending on us,” he said quietly, and poked one of Harry’s limp hands. 

He was quite surprised when Harry’s hand twitched and clamped down on his wrist. Tony glanced up at his face, took in the furrowed brows and clenched jaw. His eyes were still clenched shut. 

His mouth opened and he exhaled harshly. “Call them back,” he finally said. 

“Okay,” Tony said calmly, automatically. “Expound a bit on that. If you can,” he added a moment later. 

One of Harry’s eyes opened, but the pupil was blown, leaving only the tiniest green rings. Tony couldn’t help himself. He raised his free hand and waved it in front of Harry’s face. No reaction. Harry couldn’t see him. 

“It’s a trap,” Harry said roughly. His eye closed. He swallowed, the knot in his throat bobbing convulsingly for a moment. “Holding him,” he explained haltingly. “Get them back. Hurry.” 

Tony turned away, arrested for a moment by Harry’s grip on his wrist before he managed to shake his friend loose. He dialed Fury but there was no response. 

“Shit.” 

He patched himself into the team’s comm line, speaking over whomever might’ve been talking at that moment. 

“Pull back!” he barked. “You’ve got to pull back from the rip. It’s a trap.” 

“Stark what--?” A large droning crash stole whatever question Rogers was trying to ask. Tony paused for a moment, hands limp on the control panel, but then his fingers were flying over the keys, pulling up the video feed of the team’s last position. Static greeted him. 

“Shit,” he said again, and pulled up the neighboring video feed only to be greeted with more of the same. 

“Go, go, go,” Harry said, face twisted both eyes clenched shut. 

Tony jumped to his feet but hesitated. “Will you be all right?” 

“Go go, go now!”

Tony didn’t need to be told twice and activated his homing bracelets. The glass panels slid open on Jarvis’ whim and Tony hopped up onto the railing wrapped around his workshop balcony. The Mark VII armor assembled around him, not a second too soon. Tony blasted off the balcony, the HUD pointed toward the rift. The rip that was no longer empty. 

*

“Pull back!” Stark’s voice barked over the comm. “You’ve got to pull back from the rip. It’s a trap.” 

Steve pressed his finger to his ear, taking an instinctive step back. “Stark what…” 

He trailed off, reaching for his shield as another muffled thunderclap echoed from the rip. 

Once, when Steve had been young, he’d found a beehive built into nook of a tree near his apartment. The kids on the block had been fascinated, and had shown it the way most young men do. In an escalating series of dares, the boys had gotten closer and closer to the hive until they’d finally disturbed it. The bees, understandably, had not been impressed. Steve had been close enough to watch as they’d emerged from the hive. They had poured out, a single entity made of thousands of individual parts. Terrifying, and awe-inspiring.

The invading army looked like that. For a moment, Steve let himself be overwhelmed. He let himself wallow and despair. Then he buried it deep down, and let the Captain take over.

“Bunch up,” he ordered. Romanov, the Weasleys, and Black Cat fell in behind him. Only Black Cat hesitated. It was only for a moment, but Steve tucked the little detail away and focused on the threat. 

A thousand ships poured out into the sky like a swarm. They plummeted toward the city streets. 

“Less like ships. More like pods,” Barton announced shortly. 

“I second the Hawk’s statement,” Thor said.   
As the objects approached Steve saw what they meant. There was no obvious means of locomotion, though Steve might not have been the best person to make that call. The pods were small, no more than a 2 man craft judging by the space. They slammed into the concrete, completely hemming the team in. They stood there, weapons out for a few moments before it became clear that the pods inhabitants weren’t going to burst out and attack them. Yet. 

“So that’s an alien space ship,” one of the twins mused quietly. 

“A bit anti-climatic actually,” the other responded. 

“Hush,” Bill snipped. 

“What’s that sound?” Black Cat asked. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw the Weasleys glance at each other. The expression was familiar and for a moment Steve struggled to place it. 

“I t’ink it might be the sound of an alien invasion,” Fleur said lightly. 

Ah. Perhaps they had learned that expression from Harry, or Harry had adopted it from them. But it was the face Harry wore when he was genuinely surprised at someone’s apparent idiocy. In return, Black Cat threw a look over her shoulder that Steve would have thought was very scary if he hadn’t already met Natasha. 

“Not that sound. That sound.” 

A moment later they all heard it, and looked up in time to see Iron Man arrive. He landed next to Steve, and flipped the faceplate up. 

“I said to pull back.” 

“A little late,” Romanov sighed. 

“Where’s Harry?” Banner asked. 

“Still out of it,” and Steve thought Tony did a very good job of sounding unconcerned. “What’ve we got?” 

Steve raised his eyebrow and motioned at the pods surrounding them. Tony huffed and the faceplate ‘shicked’ back down. The eye slots glowed an intense blue, doubtless an indication of some sort of scan. 

“They’re inhabited,” he announcement. “But JARVIS isn’t picking up any movement from the inside.” 

“Thanos is otherwise occupied,” Loki said through the comm. “His army cannot function without his consent.” 

“So this is a ‘cut off the head, the body will die scenario,’” Bruce asked. 

There was a brief silence over the comm before Loki said, “presumably.” And he only sounded slightly bemused. 

“Sounds easy!” Spider man said optimistically. 

Steve wasn’t about to poke holes in the kid’s good mood, though he did share a slightly incredulous look with Stark. 

The air suddenly tightened, and Steve could feel his skin prickling, like he was standing in the eye of a thunderstorm. 

“Thor?” Steve entreated slowly. 

“It is not I,” Thor said, and his tone was equally wary. 

*

Harry laid back, and he breathed. 

It wasn’t easily, splitting his focus like this, but he did it. He did it because he had a job to do. Thanos beat at his thoughts, trying to prolong their mental skirmish. As hesitant as Harry was to admit it, Thanos had him beat there, and Harry was unwilling to keep fighting a battle on someone else’s terms. 

“Where are your words now mortal? Where is your bravado?” 

Harry didn’t answer, unsure if his multitasking skills where that strong and unwilling to be drawn back into the mental conflict. 

“I will crush you. Utterly.” 

And then Thanos was gone. Harry gave himself 10 seconds, 10 seconds to stare up at the ceiling and try to quell the dull pounding at his temple. Then he was hulling himself up. 

“Jarvis. Spare communicator?” 

“On the work table to your right, Mr. Potter,” Jarvis said promptly. 

Harry lurched to his feet, scooping up the earpiece and snapping it into place. 

“Sorry about this,” he tossed out distractedly, knowing that he was about to short out half of the technology in Tony’s workshop. 

He disapparated.

*

“There’s movement at the rift. Repeat: movement at the--!”

*

Haste made Harry’s arrival more than a bit sloppy. Instead of the common near silence pop, a sharp crack split the air. Even before he finished materializing, he was talking, moving. 

*

“—rift! Incoming! Steve, incoming! Pull--!”

*

“BACK!” Harry roared.

The rift erupted, raining down fire. All the glass in midtown shattered, but Harry was ready. He pushed everyone back, shielding them all with the strongest shield he knew. The sky disappeared. Everything was smoke and glass and fire. 

Harry sensed him before he saw him, reaching out to douse the flame to make it safe for the others even as he threw himself out of the way. 

“Here you are, in all your weakness,” Thanos greeted. 

Harry looked him up and down, chest heaving. “You know, all this talk of weakness makes me think that you might be overcompensating for something.” 

It was hard to suss out Thanos’ exact response to that; the skin on his face made his expression rather fixed. The growl was a rather good indicator. 

“Harry?” 

The wizard spared a moment to glance at Steve over his shoulder. 

“I’ve got this,” he assured. “If you guys have got all that.” He motioned at the pods, which were beginning to shake. 

“Oh yeah,” Tony said. “We’re all over that.”

*

Tony had thought that Loki’s army was ugly, but these guys won. They were fast and even more bug-like. The splat however, was extremely familiar, and just as satisfying. The wizards were holding their own, Bill, Fleur, and the twins had pressed their backs together and were moving as one multiarmed unit. 

Tony could only spare a moment to watch, ever fascinated by magic and what it could do. Then he made sure to stay clear, Harry’s warning about what magic did to technology in the forefront of his thoughts. He was sure to stay near Natasha and Steve, blasting the invaders away with his repulsers. 

This didn’t seem as overwhelming as they’d thought. SHIELD agents were raining down fire from above, using their unethically built weapons to thin out the hoard. Clint, Spiderman, Thor, and Loki were with them hitting heavy from their perches above the street. There were no civilians to protect, no flying enemies to keep track off…

A glance over at Harry and Thanos showed that the wizard was holding his own, actually managing to knock the huge guy off his feet. 

Yeah, this seemed easy in comparison. 

As if Harry could sense his thoughts (and who knew – maybe –) the wizard glanced over. Hyper green eyes took in the situation, and then they flicked up to the rift. 

Tony glanced up as well, just in time to see more tumble through. These weren’t falling though, they were…

“Oh hell. I thought too soon,” he muttered. 

“Bogeys incoming. From uh…everywhere,” Clint announced. 

“On it,” Tony said, and shot off into the sky. 

* 

Thor understood the gravity of the situation, truly. But he could not help but rejoice in his brother’s presence. It felt like it had been an age since they’d fought side by side. He’d forgotten what it felt like to stand next to such a wickedly powerful ally. 

“I have missed you Brother,” Thor said as he happily blasted one of the strange ‘pods’ out of the sky. 

“Is now really the time?” Loki asked. 

“There is no time like the present!” 

That quick assessing glance was very much like his brother from before. Before the crazed man that had taken his place, before everything had changed. The reemergence of his brother cheered Thor even more and Mjoinir hummed contentedly in his hand. 

*

“We need more support down here.”

Clint glanced down at the team fighting street level, seeing the problem at once. “Spider-man,” he said shortly. 

“Headed down,” the kid announced and moments later he was swinging past, taking down a few of the flying pods as he went. 

*

Harry’s dodge was just a touch too slow, and one of Thanos’ huge fists caught him in the ribs. They caved slightly, and would have broken if Harry hadn’t frantically shoved his magic at them, shoring them up against the strain. Even so, the hit threw him. Luckily, a nearby car cushioned his landing. 

Throwing things at him hadn’t worked. Harry had either stopped them mid-flight or turned them into something else. 

Making him hallucinate was right out. Harry’s mind was made of stronger stuff than that. 

So Thanos had resorted to using his fists. Harry couldn’t help but to think that the oversized bastard should have opened with that instead. 

“You are nothing,” Thanos said, and actually seemed a bit disappointed. “I don’t understand your hold over her. Why does she defer to you?” Thanos reached out, wrapping one huge hand around Harry’s throat. He brought their faces close together. “What are you?” 

*

“Shit! Harry’s in trouble! Someone-!”

“Hulk!” Steve shouted. Banner’s alter ego glanced over at him, and Steve pointed to where Thanos ad Harry by the throat. 

Hulk bellowed and one massive jump later he was there. Steve watched just long enough to see Hulk grasp Thanos by the helmet and slam his head into the concrete, Harry stumbling to his feet with one hand on his throat. Then he was forced to turn away, catching one of the blasts with his shield. 

*

“Bill!” Fleur screamed, but her warning came just a touch too late. 

Bill could only lay there and groan, his one working hand grasping ineffectively at the pulpy mess his left shoulder had been reduced to. Fleur was standing over him, casting furiously. 

“Fool,” she spat in-between curses. “Je vous ai dit de ne pas mourir! Je l'ai dit! Merde…” 

“Sorry,” he gasped, curling one hand around her ankle. “I won’t. I promise.” 

“À nos enfants, Bill. Nous devons ... Tu as promis!”

Bill groaned and heaved himself to his feet, catching sight of Fred and George covering him and his wife as they gathered themselves. “We’ll get back to them,” he promised gravely. 

He scooped up his wand, numbed his arm from shoulder to elbow, and fought on. 

*

Peter landed on top of one of the invaders, webbing another in the face as it approached from behind. 

“Hey babe,” Felicia greeted.

“Hey babe,” Peter responded. 

“Focus kids,” Black Widow said calmly. 

Felicia and Peter had never had the opportunity to fight against an opponent together. Sure they had sparred, but Peter had always had to be careful about how well he did, unwilling to call attention to himself. But as he and Felicia began to move together, swinging, ducking, lunging, and jumping, it became clear that they were sort of made to do this. 

The addition of Black Widow made it even more awesome. 

So while Peter was very aware what he was fighting for, he couldn’t help it as he began to enjoy himself. 

*

“Hulk down!” Harry shouted. He spared a moment to be surprised that the Hulk not only understood, but also obeyed, and then he lifted his hand, releasing a blast of pure, strong, decidedly dark destructive magic. 

Thanos fell back, but Harry was done. He ran forward, releasing another blast, and another, until Thanos sprawled in a vaguely person shaped crater in the pavement. Harry stalked forward and dropped lightly into the hole, his hands still glowing faintly. 

“Do you yield?” Harry asked calmly. 

Thanos raised his head. Harry smacked it right back down. 

“Do you?” 

Again, it was hard figuring out exactly was the guy was thinking, his face was so inflexible. Harry assumed to snarl meant that he was pissed. 

“Very well mortal. I yield.” 

Too easy. 

“Tell your army to stand down.” 

It was all too easy.


	5. The Calm

Chapter 5: The Calm

“ _Potter for HQ.”_

_“Send, Potter.”_

_“Need a team over here. With handcuffs. Big handcuffs._ ”

_“Sitrep.”_

_“We’ve won…I guess._ ”

*

Tony wove through the milling SHIELD agents, heading for Harry’s last known position. While they still had a lot of work to do, corralling all of the surviving aliens, and cleaning up all of the felled glass, Tony’s priority was his friend.

The wizard was standing at the edge of a shallow crater. He was quite obviously battle worn; the worst of his injuries seemed to be a gash near his hairline. Blood had stained the left side of his face and neck. Harry didn’t seem to notice. He stood there, arms crossed and feet planted, one of his thumbnails between his teeth. Thanos, big purple asshole that he was, seemed wholly unconcerned as the SHIELD agents bound his arms behind his back from wrist to elbow. In fact the ugly dude was grinning slightly, effortlessly staring into Harry’s eyes.

“Should I be jealous?” he asked, coming to a stop at Harry’s side.

Harry grunted, frown deepening as he stared Thanos down. The alien was frog-marched past them, the procession absurdly hilarious because the two agents hemming Thanos in, not small men by any means, barely came up to the alien’s shoulders.

“It’s gonna get stuck like that,” Tony said, prodding gently at Harry’s furrowed brow with one metal finger.

Thanos was loaded into the back of a SHIELD transport jet, still staring eerily at Harry. Harry held that gaze until the door closed and the jet lifted off the ground. Then he finally glanced up at Tony, expression troubled.

“What did you say?”

“That looks very nasty,” Tony said, pointing at Harry’s face. “You’ve won the prize for most badass injury. Congrats. Clint will be heartbroken.”

Usually Harry was able to keep up with Tony. He was as good as Rhodey, only coming in second to Pepper. Now he was failing. His thoughts were obviously elsewhere, and the blood on his face was still wet, creeping down to stain the collar of his shirt.

Tony activated his comm. “Need a medi team by the crater.”

_“What’s wrong?”_ Steve asked at once.

“Harry is trying to bleed to death from a gash in his head.”

Clint and Natasha appeared, seemingly from thin air, a second later. Clint had managed to come away injury free. Natasha however, was looking a little battle worn. She couldn’t quite disguise the limp when she moved. Tony raised his eyebrows at her, and she scowled. Okay, well, if she could make that face then she was probably fine.

“Damn,” Clint said and he whistled under his breath. “Looks gnarly.”

“It was too easy,” Harry finally said, and he began pacing in a tight circle, hemmed in by on all sides by Natasha, Clint and Tony. He kept his head down and chewed furiously on his thumbnail. “He’s planning something. Too easy.”

Clint, Natasha and Tony shared a look. Thankfully the team of medics arrived but they seemed wary of disturbing Harry’s single minded pacing. They watched him though, eyeing his blood covered face with professional concern. Clint was the one who stepped in and bundled Harry over to sit in the back of the van. He kept his hands firmly on Harry’s shoulders until Harry visibly got the message to stay seated.

Steve jogged over a few minute later, Spider Man, Black Cat and the Weasley twins following. The twins split off at once, heading for the van to make sure that Harry was really okay.

“Where are the Asgardians?” Natasha asked in lue of a greeting.

“They’re helping the agents sort out all the POWs,” Steve answered. “We need to get them off the city streets as soon as possible.”

“Where are they taking them?” Spider-man asked.

Natasha and Clint glanced at each other, no doubt wondering how much to disclose to a relatively unknown person. The kid slumped a little, but tried to cover it up by waving his hands.

“Hey, just curious.”

“They’ll be taken to a secure location,” Natasha finally said.

“You kids better get lost if you don’t want to be found out,” Tony said. “It’s hard to shake Fury once he has a grip.”

“Thanks for your help,” the Captain said and offered his hand for them both to shake.

Spider-man’s enthusiasm was earnest, while Widow Jr. looked like she was trying very hard to hold in a snarky comment. Spider-man wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist, shot off a strand of that strange webbing, and then he was gone, effortlessly swinging between buildings.

“Fury will catch up to them eventually,” Clint said idly. Natasha silently nodded her agreement.

“Well I’m rooting for them,” Tony said. “What the plan, Cap?”

“Bill was injured in the attack. He and Fleur are already being transported to the Helicarrier.”

“The surviving invaders will be sent to the containment facility on Governors Island. Thanos is probably headed there as well,” Natasha revealed. “SHIELD has been working on converting the facilities there seen Thor first arrived.”    

“I need to talk to him,” Harry said, his sudden arrival making Steve and Tony startle. The super spies had no doubt heard him coming.

Some of the blood on his face had been cleared away, and the wound had been butterfly stitched closed. One of his hands was pressing bracingly to his side, but his eyes were clear and focused. Even so…

“Don’t you think you need to rest buddy?”

“No,” Harry said shortly. “This, this whole thing, this can’t be all of it. That bastard is up to something. I need to talk to him, properly.”

“All right,” Steve said pacifyingly. He turned to Natasha, who had already moved a few steps away, finger pressed to her communicator.

Tony wanted to reach out and examine Harry properly, but he was wary of doing so in the armor. Harry, ever observant, rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Tony drawled. “Because you look fine.”

Natasha returned, looking just a little tired and pointedly hiding her limp.

“I’ve arranged transport to the prison,” she announced and a transport landed a few yards away. When Tony turned, Harry was speaking lowly to the twins. They looked unhappy and unsure, but a moment later they nodded in unison and disappeared with two audible ‘pops.’ Before Tony could ask, Harry was walking into the back of the transport, once again chewing on his thumbnail. Tony shared a glance with the others, but there were no answers in their faces.

*

Part of Tony wanted to stay with Harry, but Fury had already summoned them all to the Helicarrier. They went, Tony grumbling the whole time.

Fury looked even more pissed off than usual, standing at near the conference table with his arms folded behind his back, Coulson standing silently at his side. His one eye regarded them silently as they sat down.

“I think it’s about time we talked,” he said ominously.

“Aye Captain,” Tony snarked, reluctantly unsettled by Fury’s intensity.

Fury just stared silently for a moment before moving to the control panel built into the table. Footage from their fight began projecting in the air above the table. It was focused mainly on Harry. The team was silent as they watched the fight, seeing Harry in action for the first time. He barely came up to Thanos’ elbow, but he yielded his wand, and sometimes his fists, with deadly force.

Even Natasha seemed impressed and at one point Clint whistled lowly and said, “I wouldn’t want to go up against that.”

The projection revealed that the Hulk helped, but it was indisputably Harry who was the one who ended it, coldly asking for Thanos’ surrender. The recording ended, a still of Harry standing above Thanos left projected above the table. Fury let them sit in silence for a moment before speaking.

“Harry Potter is an extremely powerful unknown entity,” he said gravely. “He has inside information, and refuses to disclose his source. Forgive me,” he said in a tone that indicated that he was definitely not asking for forgiveness. “But I’m tired of Potter keeping us in the dark. He is unaffiliated. Technically, he is not even a legal US citizen.”

“So what is this?” Tony asked sharply. “Are you going to send him back to England?”

Fury’s eye narrowed. “Why did Potter arrive late to the battle?”

The team was silent, and frustration began to appear on Fury’s face. He turned to Natasha and Clint, expectation explicit. Both SHIELD agents looked back at him – Natasha expressionless, and Clint mulish. In the end Coulson cleared his throat. Clint’s eyes flicked to him, uncertainly making his brows furrow before he sighed.

With an apologetic glance at the rest of the team he looked to Fury and said, “He passed out or something right before, sir. One of the wizards and Loki alluded that he was engaged with Thanos.” Clint shrugged. “He appeared eventually.”

“We have detained Potter’s friends,” Fury said. “Don’t think it’s escaped me that Loki was running around with you as well – _without_ my permission or knowledge.”

“We weren’t a fan of that either,” Clint grumbled.

“It was my call,” Steve said, speaking up for the first time.

“Not your call to make Captain,” Fury admonished sharply. He shook his head. “I’m sure that you all have figure it out by now, but we’re on the precipice was something new and terrifying here. Not only do we have aliens and superhumans coming out of the woodwork, but we have an entire population hiding right under our noses, capable of things that we can’t even conceive of.” Fury rested his hands on the table, leaning forward to impress his point. “We need knowledge to protect ourselves.”

“Protect yourselves,” Tony repeated coldly. “Are you going to build more weapons? Or are you going to lock the wizards up? Dissect them?”

“Jumping to conclusions, Stark?”

“Then spit it out,” Tony snapped. “What are you saying here?”  

Fury sighed, visibly curtailing his frustration. “Potter is not being honest with us. He is too much of a threat to leave unfettered.”

Horror shot up Tony’s spine and he was on his feet before he knew it. “What did you do?”

Fury stood back and regarded Tony silently.

“Sir,” Steve said lowly. “What have you done?”

“I am simply working to see to the welfare of our nation’s citizens.”

“You bastard,” Tony snarled and stalked off the bridge, determined to get to Harry before it was too late.

*

Steve watched him go, running a hand over his face.

“That was not the wisest course of action, Sir,” Natasha said coolly.

“I do not answer to you Agent Romanov,” Fury said darkly.

“No,” she said. “But you have just made an enemy out of Tony Stark when we might need him in the near future.”

“This threat is over.”

“You’re an idiot if you think that,” Bruce said coldly.

“Do you all know something that I don’t?” Fury asked, and based on his tone he severely doubted that fact.

Steve, annoyed enough now to be just a bit insubordinate, responded. “Were you watching the right battle? That was nothing. Too easy. Thanos gave up way too soon. Back in the day we called baloney on that.”

“We call it bullshit now,” Clint offered helpfully.

“Thanos is detained. Our agents are questioning him. We’ll find out why he’s here.”

“Who was it that detained him?” Natasha asked contemptuously.

Fury glared at her, but didn’t respond. 

Bruce stood, his hands sunk into the pockets of his borrowed pants. “This is stupid. I don’t subscribe to stupid.” He left the bridge without a word on where he might be going.

Clint looked as frustrated as Steve felt.

“Why do all of our meetings end this way?” he asked plaintively.

Steve glanced up at Fury pointedly but didn’t say anything. He stood as well, watching with some surprise as Natasha and Clint did the same. “If that’s all, Sir?”

Fury looked like he wanted to protest but there was really nothing else to say. The man would do what he wanted. Steve didn’t agree, and when the time came Steve would throw his support behind Harry. Honestly, based on what he’d seen today, and from his general impression of the wizard, Fury wouldn’t be able to hold him anyway.

“For now Captain,” Fury said coolly. “For now.”

Suddenly his communicator sounded, and Fury turned away, his hand pressed to his ear.

“That’s good to hear,” he said after listening for a moment. “Proceed as planned.” Then he ended the call, turning his head to stare defiantly at the remaining Avengers.

Clint looked more than a little disapproving now. But he was silent. Surprisingly it was Natasha that spoke up, her voice low and cold.

“Sir, I hope you haven’t done what I think you’ve done.”

“I thought I made it clear agent that I don’t answer to you.”

“No,” Natasha said sharply. “But alienating one of our most powerful assets is extremely unwise.”

“Why so invested Romanov?” Fury asked. Natasha pressed her lips together, but her pointed glance at Clint was very telling. “I see,” Fury said slowly. “You think you owe him.”

“He saved my life,” Clint said.

“He almost died saving New York,” Steve added.

“I’m not saying that the man hasn’t helped us,” Fury said calmly. “I’m saying that he has been deliberately unforthcoming.”

“And you think taking him against his will is going to change his mind?” Steve asked incredulously.

Fury shook his head, a truly impressive scowl appearing on his face. “I thought that you have all people would understand Captain,” he said, staring at Steve pointedly. “We do what we can to protect the innocent.”

Steve shook his head unbelievingly. He got to his feet, needing to leave this place and leave it right now.

“Where are you going Captain?”

“I’m going to help Harry.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

Two armed agents stepped closer. Steve turned to stare at Fury, becoming darkly amused despite the inappropriateness of the situation.

“Oh man,” Clint groaned. “Director, what even?”

“You will all be held here until further notice,” Fury announced calmly.

Steve’s fists clenched, but a short headshake from Natasha made him relax. He allowed the men to escort him from the bridge, Fury’s single eye burning a neat hole in the back of his head.

*

Bruce walked calmly into the med-center. His reputation was enough to put off the SHIELD medical personnel, but he felt their eyes on him as he searched out the two wizards that should have been there. Eventually he found them, tucked away in a shadowed corner.

Two agents were lingering nearby, doing a poor job of looking like they weren’t guarding prisoners.

“You look better, Bill,” he greeted calmly.

“Thank you,” Bill said, matching his tone perfectly. He did look better. The burn had been cleaned up and bandaged. His shirt was gone, but he remained in his trousers and shoes. He was sitting up under his own power, and didn’t seem to be in any pain. His wife was standing at his side, cold and still. She regarded Bruce with the intensity of someone ready to fly into a fierce protective rage. The way she was perched in the uncomfortable plastic chair reminded Bruce of a bird, sharp and placid, until she suddenly wasn’t.

“Where is ‘Arry?” she asked coldly.

“Not here,” Bruce said. “I would suggest that you also become ‘not here.’”

Husband and wife shared a long look.

“Where should we be?” Bill asked casually.

“Stark Tower,” Bruce said. “Sooner rather than better.”

Bill slid off the examination table, excepting his wife’s help in shrugging on his button down shirt.

“We’re not as powerful as Harry,” Bill admitted quietly. “But together we can manage to take you along with us.”

Bruce hesitated and then nodded. Bill offered his arm, like Harry always did. Fleur was gripping his free hand. The apparition was not as smooth as it was with Harry; it was just slightly more uncomfortable. It didn’t matter. The feeling of relief at getting off the Helicarrier was far too potent.

The main living room was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. Fleur disappeared into the kitchen, while Bill sat down on the couch, looking a little more worn than he had a moment ago.

“Can I see your wound?” Bruce asked, professional concern overwhelming any awkwardness he might have felt.

Bill glanced over at him, his blue eyes guarded. “It’s fine,” he finally said. “Fleur is handy with healing spells and your medics finished what she couldn’t handle.”

Bruce recognized the look on his face. He’d seen it too often in the mirror, though the last few weeks had been easier. “All right,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Fleur appeared then, carrier three mugs in her hand. Her expression when she offered Bill one of the mugs was still full of predatory sharpness, but it softened just a tad as Bruce thanked her.

“What happened? Didn’t we win?”

“We did,” Bruce confirmed. “Harry was concerned that Thanos might be planning something else. He went to see Thanos where he’s being held.”

Bill and Fleur shared another look. “Where are my brothers?” Bill asked gravely.

Bruce paused, thinking back. “I’m not sure, but I’m sure that they’re fine.”

Bill looked displeased, his wife even more so. They shared another glance, before Fleur looked away, muttering something under her breath. Bill reached out and touched her hand.

“We agreed,” he said calmly. “We’re doing this for Harry.”

Fleur nodded but still seemed displeased. She untangled her hand from her husband’s and disappeared back into the kitchen. Bruce fidgeted with his mug, partly wanting to give them privacy, but his curiosity made him stay. Bill glanced over at him and offered an apologetic shrug.

“Sorry. She’s worried.”

Bruce nodded. “I’m sure that you brothers are fine.”

Bill sighed, face turning pensive for a moment. “That’s not it. Well not all of it.”

Bruce hesitated, thinking that he recognized the offer for what it was. “May I ask…”

Bill eyed him for a moment and then heaved another long sigh. “What has Harry told you about the Wizarding World?”

“Not much.”

“We don’t reach out much. A decade ago we were at war, and that was our excuse. Now there are things like you, Spider-man and Mr. Stark’s Iron Mansuit. For so long we were content in the fact that you outnumbered us, but we were more powerful than you.” Bill paused, voice going quiet with fear he couldn’t quite disguise. “That’s not true anymore is it?”

*

Agent Hill was standing at the landing pad when Harry arrived, but barely spoke to him long enough to find out where they were keeping Thanos before walking past her. She fell into step behind him, but Harry didn’t engage her, too distracted by his thoughts.

The prison extended underneath the island. The lower levels were reachable by a series of electronically controlled elevators. Each landing required another biometric scan by Hill and the other agent accompanying them. Harry did his best not to loose sight of why he was here, but the weight of the water above him – purely psychosomatic – made him nervous. They finally reached the lower level and Hill wordlessly waved him forward.

“We’ll have to lock you into the outer chamber,” she said. She pointed at the nearby control terminal, manned by another agent. “Just call when you want out. We’ll hear you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and tried not to flinch as the heavy door slammed shut behind him.

The outer chamber was circular and completely bare. There was another smaller section in the center of the room, one that looked much like the chamber that had been built to contain the Hulk on the Helicarrier. Harry eyed the chamber, sussing out all the ways he could have escaped in a glance. Then he glanced up at the corners of the rooms where sensors were capturing video and audio feeds in the room.

With a single silent wave of his hand those became moot, and Thanos raised his head. They had removed his armor, leaving him in a beige jumpsuit. He looked diminished certainly, but not enough under the circumstances. He stood in the center of the glass chamber, hands clasped behind his back, and smiled unsettlingly.

“Why are you still here?” Harry asked calmly.

Thanos smile widened. “I find that I’m wondering the same thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Thanos moved, taking a single step closer to the glass. _“She calls you Master.”_ He said the words aloud and projected it telepathically.

Harry hissed through his teeth. “I’m standing right in front of you. No reason to invade my thoughts.”

Thanos laughed mockingly. “My apologies,” he said. “But my words ring true. She calls you Master, yet here you are – dallying with mortals.”

“I happen to be one of those mortals.”

“You are not,” Thanos said lowly. He stepped forward again, staring out at Harry through the glass. “You are haloed by Death. Yet you are small, pathetic, ignorant of your own power. I will tear it from you - pick you apart until I understand. Then I will toss you away and leave you to burn with the rest of this tiny planet.”

He was snarling by the end, but Harry remained unintimidated.

“Okay,” Harry sighed with a roll of his eyes. “But why are you _here_?”

“Not only are you tiny, but blind as well,” Thanos said, and seemed darkly amused now. “The mortals on this planet have no hope of defeating me. Destroying would have been more of an annoyance than I was willing to suffer.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Thanos just shook his head, retreating back to the center of the glass chamber. Harry glowered at the back of his head, a tension headache beginning to pound at his temples. He waved his hand again, his magic moving sluggishly as he called upon it to dissipate his wards. The feeling made him frown, headache increasing as he walked back to the door.

“Agent Hill!” he called, speaking at the camera installed nearby. “I’m ready to leave.”

There was a brief pause, and then Agent Hill’s cool efficient voice echoed in the chamber. “Mr. Potter on behalf of SHIELD I am placing you under arrest. Will you come peacefully?”

Harry blinked up at the camera, thoughts muddled. “What the fuck?”

“Will you allow us to detain you?”

Harry leaned forward, resting his shoulders on the wall next to the door. His head hung low, throbbing insistently, and there was a sudden overly sweet taste in the back mouth. Gas, he thought distantly. They must have started filling the chamber as soon as the door closed. He hadn’t smelt it, hadn’t sensed it until his thoughts were too disjointed to do anything. He slid down the wall, his temple resting against the cold metal.

Across the room, Thanos began to laugh.

The door thudded open, powerful electronic locks made the surrounding metal vibrate. Harry allowed himself to tip forward, seeking the fresh air outside the chamber but it was just more of the same. He called on his magic, but it fizzled the moment it touched the air. There were feet around him, turning him onto his back and securing his arms in front of him. He looked up into their faces, barely able to recognize Agent Hill behind the thick rebreathing mask strapped to her face. He laid still, gathering his energy as he felt someone fuss with the sleeve of his shirt.

“No!” he growled and swung his joined fists at the agent’s face. It created a small window of confusion, and with the wall’s help Harry managed to heave himself to his feet.

He could barely see now, but he stumbled into the small room beyond Thanos’ prison.

“We were instructed not to harm you Mr. Potter, but we will use any method necessary to detain you,” Hill called behind him. Harry ignored her, stumbling to the control for the elevator.

“Does he actually think that that’s going to work?” one of the agents asked.

“Grab him,” Hill commanded.

One of the agents struck him behind one of his knees and he went down, immediately curling onto his side.

“…making a mistake,” he muttered. “…what he _wants_. Don’t--!”

He couldn’t stop it this time; he felt a needle pick the inside of his elbow. Hill was looking down at him, her face blank behind her plastic mask.

“Idiot,” he sighed as his muscles went limp.

Everything became gray, then black.

*

Maria watched the wizard’s eyes close. “Inject him again,” she told Sitwell, who hesitated but readied another injection of the sedative.

The medic came forward, running through the tests without needing to be asked. She snapped her fingers in front of Potter’s face while calling his name. Then she rubbed her knuckles across his sternum. Potter’s hands twitched, but he didn’t wake.

“He’s out,” the medic announced.

“Air the room!” Hill called to the agent manning the terminal. At once the vents opened, rapidly sucking out the tainted air while replacing it with air from the surface.

“Clear,” the agent announced.

Maria removed her mask at once. Observing the medic as she deftly began an intravenous line.

“He’s under heavy sedation,” the medic said calmly.

“Good. Get him ready for transport.”

She turned away, Sitwell falling into step next to her. She brought up her communicator and connected to Fury, as Sitwell activated the elevator. The call connected just as they began ascending.  

“It’s been done, sir. Potter has been placed under sedation, and is ready for transport. The Titian seems willing to bide his time for awhile.”

“That’s good to hear,” Fury said calmly. “Proceed as planned.”

“As it is written,” Maria uttered quietly.

Fury grunted in her ear and disconnected the call. Maria tucked her communicator away and finally turned to address Sitwell’s staring. “Can I help you?”

“I’m not questioning orders,” he said at once. “But are we sure that we’re making the right call here? I watched the footage. Potter might be the only thing we have that can keep up with Thanos.”

“You worry too much,” Maria said calmly, and remained silent until the elevator deposited them at the base’s upper levels.

Only a few minutes later, Stark appeared in the sky with an overloud repulser blast. Hill didn’t bother to get up from her spot in the main control room.

“Who’s in command here?”

Maria turned then, staring at him over the top of her coffee mug. She raised her hand. Immediately Stark began stomping over, sending junior agents scurrying out of his way. His jaw was clenched, the fingers of the suit curled angry fists.

“I’m just going to say this once,” Stark said, voice modulated low and furious. “Take me to my friend, or I will tear this entire facility apart.”

“He’s not here, Stark.”

“ _Bullshit_!”

“It’s the truth,” Maria said casually. “He was transported from this base a few minutes ago. I don’t even know where he’s going.”

Stark stared at her for a few long minutes, then the faceplate came down, hiding his expression. A few moments later he spun on his heel and stomped out.

“I’ll be back, for you and for Fury. It’s a promise.”

Maria hummed uncommittedly, taking another long sip of her coffee. She watched in the monitors as Iron Man blasted off into the sky.

And she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So technically this is the end of the first Arc of Falling Skies. The story’s not over though. Not even kind of. Things are about to get, you know, complicated. Also the rating might go up in the next few chapters. (For violence and profanity most likely). Thanks for reading!


	6. Disassembled

Fred tugged uncomfortably at the Kevlar vest, adjusting it as he marched down the sidewalk, George at his side. It had been easy to knock out two of the muggle police officers and steal their uniforms. A simple glamour on their hair made them nearly unrecognizable. They made sure to look busy, and no one stopped them as they wove through all the milling emergency personnel. This was partly because they did a great job of blending in, but mostly because most of the people they passed were still under Harry’s Imperio.  

 

“You would think that it’d be easy to find two gods in New York,” George said idly.

 

“True statement brother, true statement,” Fred said. “Maybe we should ask for directions?”

 

George turned his head, staring at Fred through his plastic face shield. “You’re an idiot.”

 

“It’s just an idea,” Fred said mulishly.

 

“I’ve got a better idea,” George suddenly said, and veered off to speak to two men in black unmarked uniforms who stood nearby.

 

Listening to the non-Imperioed men gossiping in the streets – and they were easy to spot because their uniforms were different, sleeker and without distinguishing markings – the damage was barely comparable to the attack a few weeks ago. There had been zero civilian casualties, a miracle that the muggles were going to work out eventually. The Imperioed men followed orders just fine, and even seemed to be able to reason and problem-solve well enough to help with the clean up efforts under their own power. During the war Fred had received an extensive education on recognizing someone who was spelled. If he hadn’t, he doubted that he would have been able to tell.

 

It made him sad, how much practice Harry had casting that spell. But he was reluctantly happy for it now, as George trotted back.

 

“What did you do?” Fred asked curiously.

 

“I didn’t ask directions,” George said, grinning behind the face shield. “That’s a stupid idea.”

 

“Sure,” Fred drawled. “What did they say?”  

 

“The gods are on one of the little islands,” George announced proudly.

 

“The whole city is on an island.”

 

“One of the _little_ ones. I just said--.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Which way?”

 

“South.”

 

“Well that’s specific,” Fred grumbled. “We need transportation.”

 

They jogged South, ducking around the perimeter that had been set up. Thankfully most people were still underground, so they had the streets to themselves. They found a car, and George struggled to strip the correct wires until Fred shouldered him out of the way and finished up.

 

“Point me, Governor’s Island,” Fred intoned from the passenger seat. “South,” he announced.

 

George glowered at him and put the car in drive.

 

****

 

Natasha watched quietly as Steve was escorted from the bridge. Thankfully Fury seemed done with them, turning on his heel to stalk back to the command cradle. Next to her, Clint was just as quiet as she was, but she sensed his restlessness. A single touch on his wrist was enough to still him. She turned her focus onto Coulson, who was examining Fury’s profile thoughtfully. Then he turned, nodding his head toward the door. Natasha and Clint fell into step behind him.

 

As soon as the bridge doors closed Clint sucked in a breath to speak.

 

“No,” Coulson said quietly, stopping him before he could begin. “Follow me.”

 

He led them to his own office, motioning for them to take a seat in the two chairs in front of his desk.

 

“How’s the leg?” he asked idly as he booted up his computer.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“You’ll go by medical as soon as we’re done here and get it looked at.” It was a statement of fact and Natasha sighed and nodded.

 

“Phil…” Clint said lowly.

 

“One moment.” Coulson entered a command into the computer and all the lights in the office flickered for a moment as Colson deactivate the monitoring devices. “Okay,” he announced shortly. “Now we can speak.”

 

“What the hell?” Clint bleated. “What the hell is Fury thinking? Why didn’t you stop him?”

 

“For the same reason you didn’t,” Coulson said calmly.

 

“What do we do?” Natasha asked.

 

Coulson sat back, looking between Natasha and Clint silently for a moment. “Do you two trust me?” Natasha raised her eyebrows at her handler, letting her face speak for her. Next to her, Clint scoffed and leaned back in his chair. Coulson’s smile was fleeting but heartfelt. “Good,” he said flatly. “You move as soon as possible. This threat isn’t over. We need to reassemble the team.”

 

“Avengers assemble,” Clint laughed under his breath.

 

Colson smiled fleetingly and then pointed at Natasha. “Medical, now.”

 

Natasha grumbled under her breath, but knew that now that Clint had been assigned her shadow there was no chance of her blowing the order off. Clint’s jaw was clenched as they stepped out of the office, the moment of lightness passed and replaced with Clint’s unique type of furious worry. Natasha didn’t speak on the way to medical because there was always the chance of being overheard in the hallway. Clint was quiet as well, but long familiarity allowed Natasha to sense the furious thoughts that he was unwilling to reveal while they were in private. Outside the med-center Natasha paused and raised her eyebrows at him. He stared back at her for a moment, and then took a deep breath. The restlessness sloughed off and he offered a tight smile. Natasha nodded, and palmed the door mechanism.

 

The double doors slid open and they walked into a quiet desperate sort of chaos. Clint snagged one of the junior medics and demanded to know what was going on. Around the nervous man’s stutters they learned that the two unknowns that they were supposed to have detained in the med-center were gone, but not only that. The majority of the equipment had shorted as well. Clint released the man, smiling tightly.

 

“I’d bet $20 that Banner went with them,” Clint said quietly.

 

“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Natasha said. “Coulson wanted us to know that they had gone.”

 

“Yeah,” Clint grunted. “But he also wanted someone to look at your leg. Nice try.”

 

Natasha sighed and allowed herself to be towed over to one of the beds. The long gash on the outside of her thigh needed stitches, and Natasha endured the medic’s administrations with grudging patience as Clint perched himself on the back of a nearby chair.

 

“Exciting day, huh?” Clint asked casually.

 

The medic rolled his eyes from behind his mask, but didn’t look up as he placed another stitch in Natasha’s leg.

 

“Tell me about it. After the last one, this operation seemed easy. Then _this_ happened.”

 

Natasha watched the technicians work on the equipment, listening as Clint casually interrogated her medic.

 

“What do you think it was?”

 

“No idea,” the man said distractedly. “I heard a tech say that it looked like a EMP pulse, but it’s only isolated to the med-center. My money’s on those two prisoners that they brought in. But when we scanned them, they came up clean. No technology, no hidden biometrics.” The medic shrugged.

 

Natasha glanced at Clint over the medic’s bowed head, and Clint gave a little nod of understanding.

 

“Okay, finished,” the medic announced as he gently pressed a bandage over the stitched wound. “You know the deal. Try not to get them wet. Come back in 7 days and someone will take them out. You, uh, don’t have to do it yourself.”

 

Clint laughed at the scowl that painted itself across Natasha’s face. “You’ll never live that down.”

 

“It was more efficient to take care of it myself,” Natasha said causally.

 

“Yeah. That infection was super efficient.”

 

The medic cleared his throat uncomfortably, tossing his gloves into the disposal bin. “I would say try to take it easy, but I’m realistic. Sorry about your uniform.”

 

Natasha glanced at the patch that had been cut down her leg so the medic could get at her wound. “I have spares,” she said calmly.

 

The medic smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I bet. Need a painkiller?”

 

Natasha didn’t even bother responding to that, getting to her feet, while playing up the pain that ignited in her leg. Clint’s eyebrows rose, but instantly he seemed to get it. He offered his arm, and Natasha put on a bit of a show of leaning on him.

 

The medic eyed this, not suspicious but surprised. “Was it that bad out there?” he seemed to regret the question right away.

 

Clever easy-going Clint just smiled, and began to lead Natasha out of the center. “I know she’s scary but she gets tired every once in a while too. Don’t tell anyone.”

 

“Yes,” Natasha agreed flatly. “Don’t.”

 

The medic, sufficiently scared, disappeared back into the throng. Clint manfully hid his flinch as Natasha buried her finger tips into the meat of his elbow in retaliation. Revenge doled out, she turned her attention inward.  

 

Okay, she thought. Bruce was gone. He could have gone anywhere; if there was anything that that man was known for, other than having an explosive alter ego, it was his ability to go to ground. If he didn’t already know, Fury would have his location soon.

 

The magic users were the wild card. Fury seemed to have a better understanding of their capabilities. While the thought that the director had access to the means to neutralize the magic users seemed fantastical, Natasha could not dismiss it. She didn’t fully understand, but Harry had admitted that that he could only teleport to familiar locations. If it was true for Harry, than it was likely true for all magic users.

 

The Tower was her first bet.

 

She turned to Clint, her eyebrows raised. At once she had her partner’s attention. They had fallen back to one of the little used briefing rooms. It was small, the walls solid and obscuring. It was not safe, but the illusion was welcomed now. Her fingers moved, touching her uniform purposefully and fidgeting with her hair as she asked aloud what Clint thought about the recent battle.  

 

“Went rather well, considering,” she said ruefully. Silently, _Establish contact. A-HQ. Banner + two others. Reposition away. Over._

 

“Didn’t know Thanos would be that ugly.” _10-4. Distraction required. Rendezvous location – Brooklyn safe house 6212, 5 th. Directions regarding Stark? Over._

 

“Is that really all you have to say?” _10-4 Distraction, rendezvous. Abscond with Cap Rogers. Stark – unknown. Meet T-24hr. Over._

“Not much to say about it is there? I should check in with Coulson and report back about your trip to the med-center.” Clint stood, smiling ruefully. _FUBAR’ed_

 

Natasha stood as well, once again playing up her pain. Her parting motion didn’t require literal translation but he understood. “I’m going for a shower,” she announced.

 

Clint’s eyes softened, just a little bit, and he sent the gesture back. “Keep it dry,” Clint said.

 

Sometimes, they didn’t need words.

 

****

 

George put the car in park, staring out across the dirty waters of the Hudson at the island in the distance.

 

“Okay,” he said calmly. “Now what?”

 

Fred just grinned and climbed out of the car. George, ever the more cautious one, glanced around first before doing the same.

 

“They’re Gods right?” Fred asked rhetorically. “How do people normally get in touch with Gods?”

 

George stared at him for a moment, before he grinned as well.

 

****

 

Tony had JARVIS scan the area, but there was no trace of the transport that had taken Harry away. Tony gave himself a moment to freak out, his cursing hidden from the world inside his helmet. Then he flew home, tentatively confident with the thought that he was a goddamn genius and if he wanted to find someone there was nothing on this earth that could stop him. He landed on the penthouse disassembly platform, forcing himself to walk slowly enough so the armor could be peeled off him. He only had eyes for his workshop, so he was a little taken aback when Bruce appeared in the path to the elevator.

 

Tony stared at him for a moment, thoughts whirling quickly. “Bill and Fleur bring you here?”

 

Bruce nodded, looking pointedly to the side where the two wizards were sitting on his sofa. Tony’s stared at them for a moment.

 

“There’s a magical way to track people isn’t there?”

 

Bill’s face fell and his shoulders hunched slightly. “What happened?” he asked, but he sounded as if he didn’t really want to know.

 

His wife however and turned even colder. She looked predatory, and Tony felt himself bristle in anticipation for a confrontation. She opened her mouth, but Bill reached over and settled a hand over her wrist. They didn’t look at each other, but Fleur deflated slightly and Bill’s spine straightened.

 

“What happened?” he asked again, and there was steel in his voice.

 

Tony snorted, his rage flaring as he thought back. “SHIELD happened. They took Harry. I’m not sure where. Do your magic thing and look for him, thanks. I’m going down to do the same.”

 

Before they could say anything else, Tony was stalking away. He felt himself relax as soon as he stepped foot in the workshop, _his_ space, and absolutely safe, thank you very much. He threw himself down at a workstation and rubbed his hands together.

 

“Fire it up JARIVS.”

 

“Of course sir.”

 

Satellite feeds of the area blossomed in bright electric blue around him, the data beginning an hour before Tony had arrived on the island. JARVIS had already done a sweep, scanning the visuals for any transport that might have left the island in that time. The results, or non-results as Tony found, were listed there. At some point Thor had arrived with his brother and were still there. Transports were still arriving with the remains of Thanos’ army. Tony tracked them all, keeping in mind that it was possible that one of those transports had left the island with Harry. He was lucky that SHIELD tech was a fat load of nothing compared to what he was capable of.

 

It only took minutes to trace each transport by its specific electronic signal, an even shorter amount of time to retroactively tap into the communications running through each of the consoles. There was no mention of Harry, by name or otherwise. As JARVIS did that, Tony went on a limb a calculated the weight on the supposedly empty transports, but Harry was tiny, and any weight fluctuation between the vehicles could easily be explained away.

 

Twenty minutes after Tony began, he remembered that Harry had been wearing a communicator, one of the many he’d built for the team after the other invasion. (And wasn’t that hilarious? Two alien invasions in as many months. How was this his life?) It was quick work to figure out which communicator Harry had snatched up when he left. It wasn’t transmitting now; that would be too much to hope for. Tony went back, scanning for the last clear signal. It had disappeared for a while, the signal weakening as it traveled underground. It reappeared about 30 minutes later, briefly moved west while gaining altitude before it disappeared.

 

“Think we’ve got something, J,” he muttered.

 

“I agree.” Unbidden JARVIS overlaid the transport trajectories. One matched, perfectly.

 

“Upload that.”

 

“I’ve already begun doing so. The Mark VII is ready for assembly but before you leave Dr. Banner has some information for you.”

 

Tony’s face twisted, unwilling to waste time, but wary of missing out on an important piece of information.

 

“Fine,” he said shortly. “He’s in the gallery?”

 

“Correct sir.”

 

“Do you know what I’m wondering JARVIS?”

 

“I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

 

Tony’s smile was brittle, but he allowed himself to take solace in JARVIS’ wit. “I’m wondering how puny SHIELD managed to capture a superpowered wizard.”

 

“It does seem unlikely.”

 

“Begin a new protocol J. Take a peek at SHIELD’s systems.” Tony glanced up at the elevator ceiling in thought. “Specifically anything related to Phase II and any correlating programs. Any newly acquired weaponry or technology. I want a comprehensive list.”

 

The elevator deposited him on the gallery floor just as JARVIS uttered a quiet ‘yes sir’ as affirmation.

 

Bruce looked up from his tablet and got to his feet. “SHIELD arrested Steve.”

 

Tony blinked, struck silent for a moment, but only a moment. “Fury has lost his mind.”

 

Bruce nodded, considering the statement with the gravity it deserved. Which was all of it, all of the gravity.

 

“Clint’s on his way back from the Helicarrier. He heavily implied that we should make ourselves scarce encase Fury decides that the rest of us should be locked up too.”

 

Tony knew that he should leave, Harry’s trail growing colder the longer he stood there. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes for a moment, reluctantly admitting to himself that this situation was a mess. It was a huge steaming mess, and it _didn’t make sense_.

 

“This doesn’t make sense,” he said aloud.

 

“Yeah,” Bruce agreed dryly. “Which part?”

 

“None of it,” Tony said. “None of it makes any sense. There’s something wrong with Fury. He’s an asshole, but he’s not completely stupid.”

 

Bruce was quiet for a moment. Then Tony watched his face tighten as he hopped onto Tony’s brainwave, riding it like a pro. That right there was why they were science bros.

 

“Mind control?”

 

“Why not?” Tony asked. “We’ve seen it before.”

 

The elevator doors opened, depositing a slightly out of breath Barton into the gallery. “Fury’s gone crazy,” he announced.

 

“Mind control,” Tony offered grimly.

 

Barton paused, expression stuttering. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s the consensus. I thought we were done with that.” His eyes narrowed. “Are we sure Loki’s not behind it?”

 

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly.

 

Barton sighed. “Okay, we’ll chat about it later. We’re abandoning the Tower. Until we figure out what exactly is up with Fury, we can’t afford him locking the rest of us up. Nat and I have a safehosue in Brooklyn. Give me a minute to throw on some civvies and stow my gear and we’ll head out.”

 

“ _You’ll_ head out,” Tony corrected. “I’m going after Harry.”

 

Barton nodded his agreement and then loped off down the hallway.

 

“I’m headed out,” Tony said stepping toward the assembly platform. “I’ll be in contact, hopefully with Harry.”

 

Bruce nodded, and offered a little wave as the armor began to snap into place. The HUD flickered to life, the path already laid out.

 

“All right buddy,” he said quietly. “I’m coming for you.”

 

With a blast of repulsors he was airborne.

 

****

 

The distraction had been easy. The techs down in in the chemical labs were notoriously excitable. A quick rewiring in the alarm system and the entire Helicarrier was on alert for a potential toxic chemical spill. It happened often enough that was wasn’t completely unheard of, but it did require all personnel to begin enacting one of their many containment protocols. Natasha was betting that Fury wouldn’t want it common knowledge that he was detaining Captain America, which meant that he would be confined to his bunk, as opposed to the brig. They would move him now, following the protocol like all other personnel. They would take him to the brig now, because Fury wasn’t stupid and probably knew that Steve would slip away at the first opportunity.

 

She was rarely wrong, and she wasn’t wrong now. She’d tucked herself up into the ventilation system, admitting that Clint was right about it being the easiest way to get around unseen. Steve and his escort would need to pass by her position, and a moment later they appeared around the corner. Natasha shifted deliberately, and Steve’s eyes jumped to the vent. She was pretty sure he could make out the color of her hair in the gloom, but any layman wouldn’t be able to. Her gamble paid off, and he slowed as his escort passed under the vent.

 

“Sir?” one of the agents asked, shifting nervously.

 

“Something in my boot.” The Captain bent over his foot, and Natasha struck.

 

She burst from the vent, her thighs wrapping around one of the agent’s neck. She squeezed, putting pressure on the carotid. The agent dropped a few seconds later, the other agent falling next to him curtsey of Steve’s right hook.

 

“We gotta go Captain.”

 

“Yeah,” Rogers said, frowning down at the agents. He spared a moment to look up at her, reluctance reflected in his expression. Natasha stared at him, allowing her impatience to shine through, and Steve sighed, motioning for her to lead the way.

 

Natasha took off, using her knowledge of the corridors to avoid any personnel. They’d almost reached the airstrip before they were stopped. The squad barring their way was armed, but Natasha severely doubted that they were carrying fatal ammunition.

 

The Captain didn’t seem willing to take that chance. He stepped out in front of her, and Natasha huffed out a tiny annoyed breath.

 

“You don’t want to do this guys,” Roger said calmly. “Just let us pass.”

 

“We’ve received orders to escort you and Agent Romanov to the brig,” the squad leader said. “I’m sorry sir.” He brought his rifle up.

 

Natasha was already moving. She ran forward, sliding the last few feet on her knees as the squad opened fire. Traq darts, she noted. She used her momentum to hop smoothly to her feet, grasping the neck of one of the rifles and pointing it over her shoulder as the agent fired. She jerked the agent forward, throwing him off balance and then put him down with her widow’s bite. Immediately she dropped, sweeping her leg out to strike another agent in the back of the knee. He went down. A sharp shock later and he was out. Rogers had handled two of the four remaining, and Natasha turned, looking for the last two men. There was a soft ‘thunk’ of a traq dart hitting flesh, and then the muffled thud of a body hitting the metal deck. Upon noticing their attention the remaining man removed his hands from his gun and raised them in the air. The three of them stood in silence for a moment, Natasha and the Captain eyeing the man on the ground who had fallen to friendly fire and the rouge agent in turns.

 

Visibly uncomfortable with the silence the agent shift and blurted, “Something’s not right here.” Finding confidence in his words, the young man straightened. “I try not to just blindly follow orders.” 

 

“Good idea,” Natasha admitted and the agent released a relieved breath.  

 

“What’s your name?” Roger asked.

 

“Agent Spencer,” the young man said, and tugged his helmet off, revealing a mess of brown curls and dark blue eyes. “Could you knock me out before you go? I’d like to avoid getting written up for letting you escape.”

 

“Thank you Agent Spencer,” Roger said. “We’ll remember that you helped us.”

 

“Great,” the young man said. “Captain America owes me a favor.” He was grinning just a little bit. “You should go.”

 

Rogers nodded gravely and then punched the agent hard enough to knock him to the ground. “Right,” he said, heavily. “Let’s go.”

 

Natasha led the way to the transport she’d chosen, trying not to smirk at Rogers’ surprised look when he discovered his shield and the rest of his uniform stowed in the back.

 

“Has anyone told you you’re amazing?” Rogers asked as he tugged on the top part of his armor.

 

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” Control was squawking in her ear, but she ignored them, engaging the engine and taking off.

 

“Agent Romanov,” Fury growled through the comm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Leaving, sir,” Natasha said drolly and blocked his frequency.

 

Rogers, fully dressed, took a seat in the co-pilot chair. “What’s stopping them from coming after us?” he asked. Natasha turned and raised her eyebrows at him. “Never mind, of course you have it handled. What was I thinking?” Natasha snorted. “What do we know about the situation?”  

 

“Not much,” Natasha admitted. “But we know one thing for sure. Fury is many things,” Natasha said gravely, “but he’s not stupid. We think he’s been compromised.”

 

“We?”

 

“Clint, Coulson, and I.”

 

“So what’s the plan?”

 

“Clint went ahead to evac the Tower. There are a few safe houses that we use. Shield knows about some of them, but not all of them. We’ll meet and go over our options.”

 

Rogers sat back, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “I thought this one seemed too easy.”

 

“That should have been your first clue. If it seems too easy, it probably is.”

 

“Someone should write that down, save it for posterity.”

 

Natasha pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile.

 

****

 

They only had to pray for a few minutes before the air shimmered and Loki appeared. He looked annoyed, but then that had been his default for the last few days. Fred still grinned at him, because sweet fucking Merlin it was freakin’ _Loki_.

 

“You pray too loudly,” Loki said.

 

“Sorry, Sir,” Fred said.

 

“Yeah, sorry. But we have something for you,” George announced.

 

“A message.”

 

“It’s from Harry.”

 

Loki’s head tipped to the side. “Proceed.”

 

George told him, Fred jumping in when he felt the need. At the end, Loki looked mostly fascinated, and not overly concerned.

 

“I know of what he speaks. I must confer with my brother. Did Potter give you any further instructions?”

 

“He didn’t have time.”

 

Loki went quiet, face pensive for a moment. “Very well. Infiltrate the organization. Learn their plans. Don’t get caught.”

 

There was a brief moment of hesitation. Fred turned to his brother, wondering what exactly they had gotten into. Then it was gone. Resolution replaced their reluctance, as they each remembered what they were here to do. Harry Potter was family, and you didn’t leave family to deal with something like this alone.

 

And it was fucking Loki, _Loki_!

 

“Sure,” Fred agreed.

 

“No problem,” George added.

 

Loki nodded, shimmering again before disappearing. Fred and George stared at where he’d been for a moment, and then looked at each other.

 

“Okay,” George sighed.

 

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “But hey, look at it this way. We’re awesome.”

 

“Yeah,” George said. “We’re bloody amazing.”

 

“And we’re going to sneak into a spy agency. That’s brilliant.”

 

“So brilliant,” George said, grinning. “The bragging rights alone.”

 

“We’ll be bragging for _years_.”

 

“Okay,” George said and clapped his hands together. “First item. We find our brother wizards. We have to go shopping.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I keep getting comments on this and instead of responding to each one I thought I'd leave a note here. Most of my inspiration for this story died a sad death when I received some serious flak over it on fanfiction.net. I do plan on coming back to it, and between my crazy life and various other projects, I AM working on it.
> 
> More information as well as progress is available on my tumblr: lockedowle.tumblr.com.
> 
> Thank you, 
> 
> Owle


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